If I Never See You Again
by Copperboom Brazzlefrat
Summary: What if she never saw him again? How would he know where she had gone? Would he know where to find her? Begins at the end of "Bon Voyage" when Rory is talking with Lane. Sophie aka Rogan.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**SYNOPSIS: **This story begins on the night before Rory's going away party when she and Lane are talking on her front porch, after Lane has been temporarily taken away to try and get Rory off the porch. When Lane comes back, she tells her how panicked she is, how nervous she is, and how upset she is to leave her Mom.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 1**

_RORY: I don't know. I just don't know about just picking up and leaving until who knows when and leaving my mom -- see? I'm not ready. What reporter freaks out about leaving their mom?_

_LANE: The lucky kind._

_RORY: It's embarrassing._

_LANE: How is she holding up?_

_RORY: She's fine. She's not freaked out at all. She's making lists and buying fanny packs. She's not even a little bit sentimental._

_LANE: Your mom?_

_RORY: Yeah. She's really fine._

_LANE: I'm sure she's freaking out on the inside._

"Maybe," Rory answered.

"No, not maybe, Rory … definitely," Lane countered.

"I guess you're right," Rory said.

"I am right. I'm a mom now too. I'm in the know," Lane said, knowingly.

The stale, hot air of the unseasonably warm summer night seemed to weigh a hundred pounds tonight, as the two old friends reminisced, one comforting the other, as they had for so many years, through all kinds of circumstances and all kinds of weather. It seemed strange to think that this may be the last time in an indefinite amount of time that they would do this.

Looking at her oldest friend, Lane could see in her face, her eyes, her every expression, that it wasn't just her mother she was afraid to leave. It wasn't her grandparents or her father. It wasn't this town and the friends who had become family. These people … they would always be here for her to return home to. No matter what happened in her life, these people, they were concrete. It was sad to leave them behind, of course. Lane couldn't imagine the strange, bittersweet sadness that Rory must feel in leaving behind all the people who had built her up to be the amazing person she had always wanted to be … that she was about to leave to go be. But in this ironic circle of connections, of giving, of taking and of leaving behind, Lane knew that it wasn't these people who worried her the most.

Lane could however imagine the pain that she would feel if she'd turned down Zach proposing to marry her, even though they were young. She could imagine the pain she'd feel if she were getting ready to leave to embark on the result of her life's work … knowing that she was leaving behind the love of her life. She could imagine the heartache. She could imagine the doubt. Even though Logan's proposal had not at all been in Rory's plans and had shocked her to the core, what Rory had most definitely not planned for was embarking on this new part of her life without Logan. Logan was the family that she had made for herself, outside of her blood relatives, outside of Stars Hollow, outside, even of Lane.

Lane knew that never in her wildest dreams, especially after the past few months, did Rory expect that Logan wouldn't be a part of wherever she was going, or she a part of wherever he was going. The future was up in the air, and that terrified Rory, but Logan became her rock and something she depended on. Now, she had to move forward, without being able to take Logan, a piece of everything in her life that she loved – friendship, family, Yale, the newspaper, and even in some ways, Stars Hollow – with her.

Rory was a worrier. This Lane knew, and knew well. Rory liked plans. She made pro-con lists, she used a planner, she liked familiarity and organization. None of what she was about to begin involved that, and none of what had just happened involved that. Had she made the right decision? Lane knew she was wondering that. And what if she changed her mind, then what? Lane knew that that scared her too.

And so, on this last evening with her very best friend for what was quite possibly a very long time, she brought up the topic she swore she wouldn't bring up for at least another month. But she forgave herself for crossing the line she herself had set because this was her best friend, the closest thing to a sister she had, her family … and Rory was leaving in just two days. This was her only shot to bring it up … pushing the envelope was the right thing to do.

"So is Lorelai the only person you're worried about leaving?" Lane hinted, searching Rory's face.

"Well … no, I mean, I'm going to miss everyone … my grandparents … this town … you, Zach, the boys … Sookie, Jackson, Martha, Davey and little no-name who has yet to arrive … Oh, wow, I might totally miss the Sookie's new baby being born. How sad," she realized aloud.

"I know you're going to miss all those things. All those people," Lane said.

"Then why did you ask?" Rory looked at her, searching for the real question that she knew was coming.

"What about … Logan?" Lane said.

Rory stared almost immediately at her hands and began to fidget with them.

"What about him?" she said, softly.

"Does he know you're leaving?" Lane asked.

"Not unless his Magic 8 Ball happens to have a more broad set of answers than mine did," Rory scoffed.

"So you didn't call him? You could call," Lane said.

"He's mad at me. He doesn't want to know. We're over," Rory said.

"It's not like that Rory, you know that. He loves you. Just because you aren't wearing the ring doesn't mean he doesn't love you or doesn't want to know what you're doing. And what if knowing this changes his outlook on things? What if he realizes what an amazing opportunity this is? He knows that world, he knows that field. He has to know what a great shot this is for you, and if you'd gotten his offer before he got his, look at how different things could be!" Lane tried to convince, rambling, speaking faster with each word.

"No," Rory said, flatly.

"It could be," Lane tried.

"No," Rory began. "I mean, maybe it could. Who knows? But I can't think that way now, can I? I have less than 48 hours before I start my career. Not just a job, Lane. A career. This is the rest of my life that we're talking about. And if I sit here and think, for any amount of time, that this might change things, that this might alter the course … well, it's just going to take me off my game. It's taking everything I have in me to hold me together. And what if it didn't change anything? Then I'd be even more heartbroken than I am. I would be kicking myself while I was down. How silly would that be? And the fact is that I didn't get this job offer before he got his. This is the way the cards were dealt. I played them. Now I have to live with that."

"I understand that …" Lane said, not sure where to go next.

"Plus, if I think that way … then I also have to think the other way …" Rory said, still staring at her hands.

"What way?" Lane tried to grasp.

"It's hard to explain," Rory hesitated.

"I've got all night. And if not now, when?" Lane said, growing more and more aware of the time.

"Well … if I think that way, then I have to think about whether or not I made the right decision. I mean, if I had said yes to Logan and then got this job offer, we would probably be engaged, we would probably still go through with it, and I may or may not have taken the job. Probably not. And then I have to start wondering if I made the right decision saying no to him," Rory said. "I hate thinking about that. I hate thinking about whether or not I made the right decision. I hate thinking about the look on his face. I've never seen him look so hurt."

"Well, he really loves you. He knew what he was losing – you gotta give the boy major points for that," Lane encouraged.

"I know. And I do give him major points. So many points," Rory said. "Logan has been amazing to me. I've never been in love with someone the way I've been in love with Logan. The way I felt about Dean could never compare to the way I felt about Logan. And I loved Jess … which is something that I've never really admitted too often, but I did. And that love was so unfinished that it was almost traumatic. We both loved each other, and we fit so well … except that we never had the right timing. Logan came along and into my life when I wasn't expecting it, when I'd honestly given up a little hope. I didn't expect it to go so well. I didn't expect it to be so … spectacular. It's like air to me."

"I know that kind of love. It's powerful," Lane said, peering through the window only briefly before refocusing on her best friend.

"Right. It is. And the thing is, I'm not used to powerful love that works. I'm used to mediocre love that the lasts but bores me, or amazing love that fails me," Rory began. "And forget just me – look at how many times it's happened to my mom."

"You're not your mom, Rory. And Logan is not Dean, or Jess, or Luke, or Christopher, or Max. You two are a whole separate couple. Your history, your future … it's yours and yours only," Lane tried to reason.

"I know. Part of me knows that. But part of me wonders what would it say about everything I've tried to do and learn in life if I said yes to this, and went down this path before seeing what was out there on the career path, which has been my goal since I could talk, who is that? Is that me?" Rory asked.

"I think … that both of those girls are you, Rory. Rory the career driven woman who has had her eyes on the prize her whole life … and Rory who is capable of having a successful, adult relationship, too," Lane said.

"I know I'm capable. But I'm so young. I don't feel like this should have happened yet," Rory explained. "It could turn out so badly … I've seen it. My mom and my dad were never able to get it right. Dean and Lindsay. Past precedent doesn't make me feel good about this."

"Young love can work," Lane said. "Look at your grandparents … they married straight out of college, and for the most part, have been a strong, albeit slightly strange couple their whole lives. And Paris and Doyle – you told me just a few weeks ago that Paris broke up with Doyle because they were 'too young' and this 'wasn't supposed to happen yet.' But it did. You gave her the same advice I'm giving you, and they worked it out. And … well, let's not forget me and Zach. We're young – we've been married a year, and we are the same age as you, with kids. It can work. The road of young love and young marriages isn't just littered with failures. There are some successes."

"I know. I just want to know that I could be one of them. And I mean … at least when Paris pushed Doyle away, he came back for her, he forced her to reason … Logan hasn't made a move," Rory said.

"Do you want him to make a move?" Lane asked.

"Of course I do. I love him. If he made the move, then I wouldn't feel so silly about the one going back on what I said. I wouldn't feel like the girl who was considering a boy over her job willingly," Rory said.

"I don't think Logan will make that move on his own, Rory. And it has nothing to do with loving you or understanding you. Logan wasn't prepared to want this kind of life – love, steadiness, honesty, monogamy. This was a blow to his ego. Of course he's hiding. If you want him to come out … I think you're going to have to do something," Lane said.

"I just … I can't." Rory said, blankly. "I want to. But I can't. This is what I'm doing now. I'm not sure I'm doing the right thing. I'm not sure that I will ever feel better. But I just feel like I have hurt and ached and stressed so much over the past few days and weeks. I just … need something to work. Even if it means that I am, possibly, running from this."

"I understand …" Lane began, wondering whether or not to say anymore.

"But?" Rory could tell from the tone in Lane's voice that there was something that was going unsaid.

"Well … I just think – and this is the last thing I'll say, I promise – that you have a limited window of opportunity here when you could change the outcome of things. And if you do really believe that Logan is your soulmate … and if you do really think that you aren't going to be happy without him … then what is this job really worth to you? So I think you should call him … I mean, odds are he'll find out anyway that you got a job. He's part of the dotcom world now, and if you're writing on the Internet for a man Logan introduced you to, he's bound to find out," Lane said knowingly, "But I think a call from you, telling him what's going on might mean a lot. It might break the ice, it might eliminate some of the fog. And I think he'd rather hear it from you than someone else."

Rory hesitated and thought. Then softly said "Do you really think he'd want to hear from me?" in a voice so low it was barely a whisper.

"I know he would," Lane said. "After all … Logan doesn't really seem like a Magic 8 Ball kind of guy to me."

Rory smiled, finally meeting the eyes of her best friend, for a split second, and then hugging her, gratefully.

It was hard to whether or not what Lane said would make a tangible difference. But she was glad that on this one night, when Rory seemed more lost than she had in awhile, that she could hopefully give her some direction. After years of love advice being given to Lane from Rory, the tables had turned. Lane could only hope that sometime soon, Rory would find someway to ease her own pain. And as they sat on the front porch, sipping tea, listening to the very soft sound of the crickets and looking at the stars, Lane saw Rory hold out her left hand, briefly, and stare at her ring finger. And if Lane had to put money on it – not that she had any money to gamble – she would guess that Rory was feeling that maybe, just maybe, something was missing that should be there.

If only she had a Magic 8 Ball.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**SYNOPSIS: **This story begins on the night before Rory's going away party when she and Lane are talking on her front porch, after Lane has been temporarily taken away to try and get Rory off the porch. When Lane comes back, she tells her how panicked she is, how nervous she is, and how upset she is to leave her Mom.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 2**

It was a mistake, moving into this house. He knew it from the second he pulled into the driveway and saw that damned avocado tree in the backyard.

He'd been here all of six hours and already, he hated it.

'Remember when you were excited about moving here?' He thought to himself.

But that was before. That was before he'd spent days plotting the perfect proposal. That was before he let Honor drag him from jewelry store to jewelry store to yet another jewelry store before he found it – the perfect ring. That was before he'd asked Lorelai permission to marry her one and only daughter. That was before he'd made a very grandiose, very public proposal to the only girl he'd ever loved. Make that the only person he ever loved, outside of his family.

If only he'd known the planning, the hours of shopping and yes, even asking Lorelai, would be the easier part.

He wasn't all that surprised when Rory asked to mull it over. That was Rory. He should've known better than to spring it on her in a public place … he just wanted her to feel as special as she made him feel. He should've known that instead of a horse drawn carriage, he should've supplied her with a legal pad and a pen so that she could make a pro-con list. He should've known to maybe haphazardly bring it up sometime beforehand to gauge her reaction.

'But I thought it went without saying,' Logan thought to himself.

This is what people did, right? They dated. They got serious about each other. They met each other's families. Maybe they lived together – not everyone did, but nowadays it's more and more common, and for he and Rory, it was what they did. Where else was there to go from here?

Of course, it wasn't really about the sciencificity of the proposal. It wasn't about the logic behind it. If it had really just been about logic and the way of the world, it wouldn't have been so disappointing.

No, it was that he loved Rory, with every bone in his body, and, him being 25 and ready to begin his own life and own career, and she nearly 23 and ready to do the same … it seemed only right that all these things taken into consideration, that they begin the rest of their lives together. It made sense. It fit, just as Rory fit with him in the most unexpected way he could've ever imagined.

Logan never anticipated that he'd be "ready" for marriage, at least not in the sense that he was ready to marry Rory.

Logan had expected that he would eventually be ready to marry in the sense that it was just what you did when you were heir to a considerable fortune and a multimedia conglomerate that was constantly in the public eye. You get married. You produce another heir. You do your duty to your family, to keep things pretty for Page Six, and when you're out of town, you hook up with a floozy to keep life interesting.

Logan had not expected that he would enjoy coming home to the same woman every night. He had not expected that he would enjoy shopping for her and buying her gifts. He had not expected that he would never be bored of her. He could never have even assumed that he would not get bored of sex with the same woman, day after day. He had not expected that he would feel an ache when she was not with him. He had not expected that he felt an unmistakable void in her absence, and a sense of happiness, warmth and fulfillment in her presence. He had not expected to desire to spend every waking moment with her until the day he died. He had not expected to imagine the home they would some day make, the family they would raise. He had not expected to speculate on what color hair his children would have, and if they would have Rory's beautiful blue eyes. But he did.

And so when he purchased that ring, and planned to propose, it was his sincerest hope that she would say yes, not because it was "just want you do" but because it was what he absolutely had to have to keep living, for he could not figure out how to live without her now that she had been in his life and helped him to become whole. He could not imagine what life would be like if he couldn't spend every day loving her, and showing her how grateful he was for helping him to become the man he was. And he couldn't push aside his most deep desire – that Rory would find him to be a great husband and wonderful father, which was a dream that, to him, had become more valuable to him than all the money in the world. He would live in a box and drive a tricycle, if he could live in the box and share the tricyle with Rory.

But she said no.

And so here he was, in Palo Alto, with a nice car, and a beautiful, new home, with an avocado tree growing in the backyard. The whole house reeked of Rory, even though she'd never been in the house. It was the house he'd planned the first stage of their new life in … and she wasn't in it.

Before leaving for California, it didn't occur to him how hard this would be. A house, is simply a house, isn't it? How surprising it was to discover that that's all this place was now, a house, which paled in comparison to the dreams he'd had for it – a home.

His bedroom was barely unpacked. The king bed looked so empty. His heart physically ached when the thought about how empty it would feel tonight.

He thought that moving to California without her would be the separation he needed. But if it were possible, it hurt him even more to be so far away from her. He asked himself the same question over and over again: how can I exist in a world where she is not existing with me?

He wondered about her. As he unpacked the boxes, he passed the time wondering. Had she found a job? Was she doing okay? Was she still depressed about the Times internship? And if she was depressed, who was taking care of her? Would someone lay around with her and watch The Office on DVD and laugh with her, even at the scenes she'd seen over and over again, while she cheered up? Who would remember what page of the book she was on when she, inevitably, lost her bookmark and her page, because she refused to dog-ear the pages? If she got a job, where was it? And most importantly … why did he give her an ultimatum?

He wanted to marry her so badly. And he knew that she wanted to marry him. There was just a difference on the timeline. And he could've waited a little while, he knew that. Maybe he should've just asked her to move out there with him and let her get settled, then discuss it later on. At least she'd be with him.

But he couldn't call her. Or could he?

No. He'd done this. He'd issued the all or nothing agreement. It wouldn't be fair to put that pressure on her now when she was looking for a job and adjusting to post-Yale life. And now, alone in California, he would have to lie in the bed he made, both literally and figuratively, alone.

As the sun began to set on Palo Alto, Logan realized that in all his wondering, all his pondering, his entire bedroom and bathroom had miraculously been unpacked, and the natural light became dimmer, and dimmer. It was nearly 10 p.m. in California. He knew that it was in the wee hours of the morning in Stars Hollow, and that Rory was probably sleeping. He wondered if she was dreaming of him. He wondered if he would dream of her. He simultaneously hoped for it and hoped he wouldn't. In his dreams, she was there, so real he swore she was really there and it lightened his heart … until he awoke to find that she was of course, not there.

He got into his pajamas, turned down his bed, and got in on his side – not hers – and hugged a pillow – a lousy substitute – to attempt to get comfortable, taking in the only comfort he could: this was the only time when he could be absolutely certain he was doing the exact same thing she was.

And so they both existed, one on the East Coast, one on the West Coast, both dying to call one another, both dreaming of each other, both blaming themselves for their current lonely state, missing each other, praying for some solution to their current pain.

And they slept. Or at least they tried to.

That is, until the phone rang.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**SYNOPSIS: **This story begins on the night before Rory's going away party when she and Lane are talking on her front porch, after Lane has been temporarily taken away to try and get Rory off the porch. When Lane comes back, she tells her how panicked she is, how nervous she is, and how upset she is to leave her Mom.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 3**

It was about 4 a.m. in California when the phone awoke Logan from a not-so-peaceful sleep. In fact, he was barely asleep at all. His eyes were closed. His body was relaxing, at least somewhat. But his mind was racing the entire time, never letting him entirely to sleep.

The call came from a number that Logan didn't recognize – but the area code was one that he did recognize. It was definitely from somewhere in Connecticut. And – unless he was mistaken, or dreaming – it was definitely from Stars Hollow.

He couldn't move his fingers fast enough to hit the answer button.

"Hello? … Hello?!" he answered impatiently.

"Hi, is this Logan Huntzberger?" a somewhat familiar voice said on the other line.

"Yes," Logan answered, defeated. It was definitely not Rory on the other end.

"Oh good, I'm glad I reached you! There were so many different numbers for you in Rory's phone – but I couldn't tell which was work, which was a cell phone. But this is good. It's good I reached you," the voice said.

"I'm sorry, but who is this?" Logan asked.

"Oh, gosh, sorry. This is Lane Kim, I'm not sure if you remember me or not. I'm-" she began.

"Rory's best friend." Logan cut her off. It was one of the first times he'd said her name out loud since he left. It felt like someone had punctured a slow leak in his lung as he said he name and thought about her, and realized he was talking to someone much closer to her than he was, and strangely, he found himself jealous.

"Oh, great. You remember me, well that's good, that's very good," Lane said.

"Is there a reason you called? It's 4 a.m. here, and it's not like I don't want to talk to you or anything, Lane, but I have a hard enough time sleeping these days as it is, without getting woken by random calls early in the morning," Logan said, more harshly than he meant to.

"Right. Well, see … It's about Rory," Lane began.

"Is she okay?" Logan instantly panicked.

"Oh, she's fine, she's fine. It's just … well, I don't know if you heard or not, but she got a job," Lane started.

"So?" Logan said. This wasn't exactly news. He was glad Rory had found a job, but of course he knew she would find a job.

"Well, see, the job is with Hugo Grave – a friend of yours, right? Anyhow, he has that online magazine and he hired her as a political correspondent. She's going to be in the press corp for the Barack Obama campaign," Lane explained.

"Wow," he said. Logan went silent on the line. This wasn't just a job. This was the job. It was a huge opportunity. Following Barack Obama on the campaign trail – he knew this was better than any job offer Rory could've hoped for straight out of college. And then in only a split second it hit him … this kind of job was going to involve a lot of travel. She'd be all over the country. It would be nearly impossible to pin her down for … well, as long as the campaign lasted. And if Obama went all the way … then it meant she wouldn't be slowing down until November 2008. For a year and a half, she'd be moving around constantly. It was the perfect job for any journalist. But it was really the perfect job for Rory … who he knew, in his heart, was really running from the decision she'd just made. It wouldn't give her the chance to settle down for very long, to wrap her mind around the decisions of the past few weeks, to analyze whether or not it was right or wrong. And in this job, where her life would be constantly and consistently moving, there would be little that would remain fixed. Which meant that in Rory Gilmore's new life, it would be almost as though he never existed.

"Well, it's a great opportunity for her. I'm glad she found something like this …" he said, clearly ready to go.

"No wait, Logan, don't go," Lane said.

"Why? You said what you had to say, now I know she got a job. That's great," Logan said, frustrated.

"No, that's not why I called. I mean, yes, the job is part of it … but she misses you Logan. She's leaving because she misses you. You know Rory. She didn't plan for any of this and she couldn't have expected it. She didn't have time to wrap her mind around this idea, this idea of forever with you, coming up sooner than she expected," Lane began.

"Are you saying she's changed her mind?" Logan asked.

"I … I don't know specifically if she's changed her mind," she started, "But I do know that it is classic Rory for her to pack up and move along to get her mind off of something, especially if she feels she made the wrong decision. Rory isn't good at getting over disappointment, Logan. Rory's used to getting exactly what she expects. That's the part of her that is still kind a little kid. But it's my opinion as the best friend, and as someone who does know her really, really well, that she isn't over you. It is also my opinion that in her saying no to your proposal, she didn't mean that she didn't want to spend the rest of her life with you. She just wasn't quite ready for it to start right that second. But that's only after she thought about it for a day. Rory isn't good at being spontaneous. She had to be here, but if she'd had more time, it may have gone differently. And … I still think she wants to spend the rest of her life with you. I just think your timeline and her timeline are a little different, but I think that they could, with some effort … line up."

"How do you mean?" Logan inquired.

"I think that Rory was always prepared to leave Stars Hollow behind to be a journalist. I don't think she was prepared to leave you behind, not after you both decided you were going to figure each other in," Lane explained. "I think she just figured that if you got a job offer first, she would go with you and find a job there … or vice versa. The proposal didn't really the two of you a chance to do any of that. And in the chaos of it all, I don't think it gave her the chance to say 'No, I'm not ready to marry you yet … but yes, I do want to move out there with you.'"

"Okay. So say that is the case. Say she does really want to spend her life with me, say she does want to move out here … what can be done about that now?" Logan said.

"Are you saying you'd be okay with that?" Lane asked.

"I asked you a question first," Logan said.

"Yes, but your answer to my question depends on how I answer your question," Lane reasoned.

Logan smiled. Her answer was so much like one that Rory would have given. It was easy to see … or in this case … hear, why they were best friends. They were so similar in so many ways. It made Logan ache for Rory. And in that moment, he knew, as much as he may want to, for whatever stoic or selfless reason, he couldn't lie.

"If Rory wanted to be with me … If she wanted to move out here … If she wanted to move forward in that way, living out here with me, starting our lives in that way … Well …" he said, "I guess that wouldn't be so bad. It … might be great, actually. It's not what I'd planned. But it would be better than being out here without her."

"So you do want her to come out there?" Lane said.

"If she wants to come out here," Logan began. "But it's a little late for that, don't you think? She's got this job. I mean, she's got to be packing and getting ready to leave. I mean, when does she start?"

"Well … that's the trick," Lane said, hesitatingly. "She leaves tomorrow."

'It was my own fault,' Logan thought to himself. 'I let myself get my hopes up that this could work. But now, it obviously can't.' He was disappointed and crestfallen once again. Rory was leaving tomorrow. There was no time to make this happen.

"And I know what you're thinking – that this gives us a very limited window, but I think that anything here is possible," Lane said, almost reading his mind, it seemed. "I mean, look at it this way. She's already packed – I mean, not everything in her life, but enough to get by for a few weeks. She's planning to leave anyway. And tomorrow, the town is throwing her this huge, surprise going away party, and it would be the perfect opportunity."

"The perfect opportunity for what?" he asked.

"For you to show up and ask her to come with you," Lane suggested.

"No," Logan said, flatly. "If Rory wants to come be with me, she is going to have to do it of her own volition. I'm not coming all the way out to Connecticut to have my heart ripped out again. I'm barely surviving the last time. Me, Rory, and grand gestures, clearly don't work. No. If she wants to be out here, she can come. But I'm not going to get her. I have to retain a little bit of my pride. And I will not be the one who asks her to give up this opportunity. If she makes that decision herself … well, that's fine. But I love her, and I want her to be happy. Whichever of these things makes her happiest … I will have to be okay with that, too."

"But how is she supposed to know that you want her there?" Lane asked.

"You can tell her. You seem to be good at passing the word along," Logan asserted.

"It's not the same," Lane countered.

"Maybe not, but it will have to do," Logan said. "I love Rory. I want to be with her. I rented this house with the assumption that she and I would be living in it together. Starting our life together in it. She's not here. And I want her here, even if that means I have to compromise a little. Now I won't do the long distance thing again, it hurts too much. But if she wants to move out here, and try living with me in California for a little while … I'm okay with that. I'm game. You can tell her that there is a space for her here. There is a two car garage, with one slot empty. There is a king-sized bed, and her side is still vacant. There are two walk-in closets, one is meant for her. There is room in this life for her, and I want her here. But she's gotta get here on her own. I had to get to the point where I would be ready to marry someone on my own, in a manner of speaking. No one could do that for me. No one could make me ready to commit. I can't make Rory be ready to take a leap and move out here with me. But if she decides on her own that she wants to leap … I will be here to catch her."

"You're sure you won't just come out here, and maybe give her a little push?" Lane needled.

"Nope, sorry," Logan answered.

"Fine," Lane said. "I'm going to need your address if I'm going to give this a try."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback so far everyone. I appreciate the response. I hope you continue to enjoy the installments.

And also, to those readers who have left nasty reviews slamming Logan – no one asked you to read this story, no one forced you. Move along.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 4**

The following night, Rory lay in her own bed, in her own room for the last time in the foreseeable future, staring at the ceiling that she had stared at for years, unraveling the events of the day in her mind.

Leave it to Stars Hollow – even with a monsoon, Rory's party was fun for everyone involved, most importantly for Rory, who finally felt a little bit of her troubles melt away. Everything was going to be alright. Her family – blood related and Stars Hollow – would always be here to come home to and would always be proud of her, and that was a comfort.

The trouble was, however, that though she felt some relief for a little while … it was only temporary. And if possible, once the party was dying down, she was hit with an unexpected surge of sadness, missing Logan more than she had before.

Was this how it was always going to be?

Would she finally feel the relief of happiness for however long, only to be brought down by the heavy weight of a broken heart, and feel as though she were lower than she were before day in and day out? If it was always going to be this way, then she'd rather just feel sad all the time, instead of feeling devastatingly depressed after she felt happiness.

It was silly, she admitted to herself, but a part of her secretly hoped that at some point during the party, there would be a clearing, and somewhere in the distance would be Logan. It wasn't just silly. It was absurd. How would he know that there was a party or even that she were leaving? Oh, he'd find out … but not until she was already on a campaign bus somewhere … anywhere … with no idea where to find her. The thought terrified her.

What if she never saw him again? What if the last time she ever saw him was when she hurt him? Would she ever survive if this never came back around? She couldn't admit it aloud, but that's what she was waiting for, hoping for, praying for, banking on – that somehow, someway, this would come back around.

At first, this hadn't seemed like so distant a hope. When it had only been a few days, a week, it seemed plausible. When she was going to spend the summer trekking across country finding roller coasters only to return to Stars Hollow, where Logan knew he could find her, it wasn't totally outlandish. He could change his mind and come for her. He could get in touch with her.

But when this job appeared, the prospect that this would ever come back around was pushed further and further away from her, and it no longer seemed like a realistic hope. Instead, it seemed like an ill-fated dream. This job was going to speed up her entire life. It was going to speed up her career, her adult life, her first real breaths into the real world … and each second would make it more and more impossible for her and Logan to reconcile. Every second apart would be more devastating.

Maybe that's what she needed.

After all, Lorelai thought she did the right thing. And if her mother thought it was the right thing, then it probably was … right?

Every other time in her life that Lorelai had had a strong opinion on something, she had been right. When it came to Jess (at least as he was in high school), Lorelai was right. When it came to Dean (the second time around), Lorelai was right. When it came to Rory leaving Yale, Lorelai was right. If she were sticking with past precedent, then her decision had to be right, just based on the stipulation that her mom agreed with her.

But this time, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, Lorelai was wrong. Rory loved her mother. For being a single mother, Lorelai had done a fantastic job at providing Rory with all the love and guidance of two parents (and all the personalities). But for all her strong suits – and there were so many – Lorelai had never really gotten the marriage thing down. Rory didn't hold that against her – not for a second. The chips hadn't really fallen in Lorelai's favor anytime marriage had been at her doorstep. But Rory, while like her mother in so many ways, was also different in many ways. And maybe … just maybe … Lorelai was wrong about this.

After all, Lorelai had been wrong before – about Logan, in fact. She thought he was nothing more than a spoiled boy in a man's body, just waiting for the trust fund to kick in and living high on the hog off of Daddy's money. She thought that Logan would never be able to commit or settle down. But he did. Lorelai's reaction to Logan was erratic at best. Disapproval, approval, trust, distrust. Rory was never sure why her mother couldn't just pick a side with Logan and stick to it. It was true, Logan came with ups and downs … but so had Luke, so had Christopher. Logan had come out on top of the chaos … at least for now. Was Lorelai right about this? Rory just couldn't be sure.

When Rory looked at the clock, she saw the time – nearly midnight. She should be sleeping. She had an early flight and a lot to do before that early flight.

She was trying to sleep, she really was, but her mind wouldn't shut off. Sleeping would have been easier, had Logan not slept in this bed so recently when he came to visit for the spring fling.

"Nothing belongs simply to me anymore," Rory said to herself. Everything she owned, from her clothes to her books to her room, he'd seen, he'd touched, he'd played a part in. Logan had touched everything in her life.

This was different than with Dean or Jess. She hadn't lived with Dean or Jess. She had never realistically pictured marriage with Dean or Jess. She hadn't been with either of them as adults. She hadn't grown with them or experienced a true adult relationship with them in the way that she had to Logan. This was so different than anything she expected.

So what do you do when the man you love has touched every aspect of your life, every person, place, thing or idea, and now you have to try to live without him? Do you just get rid of it all? That seems silly.

And if she had the option … should she have to live without him? Should she have to eliminate everything he touched. Should she have to ache when she wore a dress that he liked on her? Would she have to cringe whenever she picked up a book that he gave her? How could life go like this? How could life be this painful without him? How would she deal with it? And what did it mean if the pain never, ever went away?

She knew in her heart the answer to these questions, which, strangely enough, was that she would probably never have definitive answers to these questions. She simply had to allow herself the time to get over this, to adjust. Eventually, in a week, or a year, or maybe five years, things will lose the amount of meaning they have, she thought to herself. It will get easier.

Maybe in ten years.

So with no questions going answered this evening, with no wishes being answered and no dreams miraculously coming true, Rory closed her eyes tight, and tried to enjoy her last night of sleep in her very own bed, in her very own room … in the bed where Logan had once slept.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback so far everyone. I appreciate the response. I hope you continue to enjoy the installments.

And also, to those readers who have left nasty reviews slamming Logan – no one asked you to read this story, no one forced you. Move along.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 5**

Lane couldn't believe it when she'd woke up at 9:30 a.m. and slept straight through her alarm.

"Zach?" she screamed. "Zach!"

"Whoa, babe, what's wrong?" he asked. "Try to keep it down – the boys are out for the count."

"Zach, did my alarm go off?" she asked.

"Oh. No, it didn't," he said. "I noticed you had it set for like, 5:30 a.m. That was wicked early for you to be getting up, and you've been so worn out lately. I just thought I'd let you sleep in, since I'm around. Thought I'd cut you a break before I left for the tour."

"That's sweet," she said. "It totally messed with my plan for the morning … but it's sweet."

"What did you have to do at 5:30 a.m.?" Zach asked.

"It's nothing," she said. "I just wanted to catch-up with Rory before she made it to the airport."

"Sorry babe," he said. "Maybe you should just call her."

"Yea," she said. "Maybe."

She grabbed some clothes from her dresser and started getting ready for the day. Her plan – until she'd slept in – had been to get up at 5:30 a.m. and meet Lorelai and Rory over at Luke's before they left. She knew Luke was opening early for them – Zach had told her – and she thought it would be the perfect chance to get Rory alone. Lorelai would be distracted, having reunited with Luke. It would be the perfect time to tell her what she'd found out from Logan.

But at this point, even if she did call, it might not make a different. Lane wasn't sure when Rory was supposed to land in Des Moines. She knew that she had to change planes in Chicago. But if she made it to Des Moines and got on the campaign bus before Lane could get in touch with her, there was very little chance that Lane could get Rory to abandon the project. Not that she wanted her to abandon her new job or her career – she wasn't out to be a defeatist and ruin Rory's hard work. She just wanted her to have all the facts, all the options.

Maybe the campaign would make it to California?

Lane went out to the living area, where Zach was stretched out on the futon, watching TV.

"You want some breakfast, babe?" he asked.

"Not right now," she said, sifting through some of the envelopes and papers on the counter. "Hey, did you pick up your pay check from Luke's yet?"

Zach looked sheepish. "Sorry … I forgot."

"You've forgot for three days, Zach. Formula doesn't grow on trees. Diapers don't magically appear. We need money for these things," she said.

"Sorry, babe," he said, getting up, "I'll go pick it up. It's no problem."

"No, no," said Lane, feeling bad immediately. He was so attentive. A little … strange, forgetful, awkward … but so attentive. He'd wanted to let her sleep. He took good care of her and the boys, even though prior to their marriage, he'd barely known how to take care of himself. "I'll go pick it up. I want to go for a walk anyway."

She gave him a quick kiss goodbye and grabbed her keys before heading out the door.

The rainstorm had brought through a cold front, and now, as opposed to the sticky hot of the days previous, it was actually a rather chilly morning. She wished she had brought a jacket, and folded her arms across her chest to keep warm and walked briskly 'til she arrived at Luke's.

She pushed open the door, the bell jangling.

She approached the counter, where Luke was sorting receipts. "Hey Luke," she said.

"Hey Lane, how are you? How are boys?" he asked.

"Good, good. We're all good. And you?" she asked.

"Good, very good," he smiled. Lane was happy to see a genuinely happy smile on Luke's face, something she hadn't seen in about ten months. "What can I get you?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing to eat. I'm actually here to grab Zach's paycheck – he forgot it. Again," she said.

"Oh, sure," he said. "Let me just go upstairs and grab it from the safe. It'll just take a minute."

He disappeared behind the curtain, and no sooner had the sound of his footsteps disappeared than did the sound of the jangling of the door replace it, along with the sound of a pair of high heels clacking on the ground.

"Hey Lane!" Lane recognized the voice immediately and turned to meet it.

"Hey Lorelai! How are you?" she asked, hesitatingly.

"Oh … you know. I'm okay. It hasn't really hit me yet. I mean, I was teary on the way back from the airport and everything. But I went into the Inn today, and you know … life really isn't that much different than when she was at Yale … yet," she began. "It'll probably hit me harder tonight. And later on, when she isn't at Friday night dinner or home for the weekend. But I'm okay. Where's Luke?"

"He ran upstairs to get Zach's check for me," Lane answered. "So did everything go smoothly at the airport?"

"Yep," Lorelai said. "We got her to the airport and she got on her flight."

"Has she gotten to Iowa yet?" Lane asked.

"No, actually," Lorelai explained. "She should have been there by now. But the connection flight that she had to catch in Chicago was delayed – she's been stuck there for a couple hours now."

"Geez, that sucks," Lane said.

"Yea, especially for Rory. You know her – Ms. Punctuality," Lorelai answered.

"Oh yea, she's gotta be jumping out of her skin," Lane said.

And suddenly, it occurred to Lane – this was it. This was her window. This was her chance to call Rory and tell her what she'd found out. Maybe it wasn't too late for Rory to reconsider the facts.

She felt guilty, thinking these things around Lorelai. She knew Lorelai had no doubts that Rory made the right decision. That was hard for Lane. In a way, she felt like she was somehow betraying Lorelai, who was basically another mother to her. What kind of gratitude was she showing her by deliberately undermining Lorelai's motherly opinion on this topic?

But Lane knew that Lorelai didn't know the way Rory was feeling. She also didn't know the way Logan was feeling. She couldn't be sure that either of those things would make a difference. But Lane knew that Lorelai only wanted Rory to be happy. And if she wasn't as happy as she could be … then maybe, Lane wasn't really going around Lorelai after all.

Luke couldn't come downstairs with that check fast enough. She couldn't bolt without it – it would look strange and suspicious. Time ticked away. And though it was probably only a minute, maybe two, it felt like 15 or 20 minutes had passed when Luke finally arrived downstairs with the check.

Lane snatched it from his hand, thanking him quickly. "Gotta go!" she said. "It was nice seeing you Lorelai. I'll talk to later!"

Lane bolted out the door, pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She didn't waste time searching through her contacts for Rory's cell phone number – she dialed it by heart, cursing herself for not setting up her speed dial.

And then she waited, while the phone rang, and rang, hoping she had enough time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback so far everyone. I appreciate the response. I hope you continue to enjoy the installments.

And also, to those readers who have left nasty reviews slamming Logan – no one asked you to read this story, no one forced you. Move along.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 6**

Rory was stuck.

Stuck in Chicago, that is.

Her flight from Connecticut had taken off on time and was relatively smooth. She was wide awake after a surprise breakfast at Luke's, and a thermos of his coffee to go, which of course, she had to guzzle because she couldn't get all that liquid past the first security checkpoint. Lorelai tried, but Rory had a firm belief that she shouldn't be declared an international security threat, given that she was on her way to go work as a member of the press following a presidential candidate. She'd had a nice seat on the plane by the window and no one sat in the seat next to her, which eliminated the possibility for mindless, awkward, "friendly", soul-deadening chit-chat. And it also gave her plenty of personal space.

But now she was stuck at O'Hare. What was supposed to be a 45 minute layover was suddenly, two hours – and there was no end in sight. Rory was running out of things to do.

She'd called her mother.

She'd checked her email – nothing much. In fact nothing at all that was actually important. And she kept checking it every fifteen minutes. Nothing. Nothing at all.

She'd gotten coffee.

She checked her email again.

Finally, she decided she might as well pick up a few papers – the New York Times, USA Today, and the Wallstreet Journal. That should keep her busy.

As Rory settled back into her seat at the terminal that had remained constantly full since she arrived, she did feel pleasantly surprised at how strangely grown up she felt.

She was sitting in an airport, waiting for a layover, and the fact that it was late, in some strange way, almost made her feel a little more grown up, and a little more important. She wasn't just headed to vacation – she was headed to her first real job, this layover was more than a simple annoyance.

And so in the strangest way, she felt grown up, sitting in the airport terminal alone, sipping coffee from the nearest Starbucks kiosk, and reading the Wallstreet Journal.

'Maybe I can get the hang of this grown up thing,' she thought. 'Maybe it won't be so bad. I feel pretty good right now. Maybe this won't all hurt. Maybe I'm not running after all.'

But as she fingered through the Wallstreet Journal, her eyes settled on a small story that drew her in, and suddenly … she didn't feel good at all.

"Huntzberger heir takes on new gig," she read the headline to herself, softly, then moving onto the second deck, "Newspaper mogul's son breaks into business in San Francisco."

She only briefly read the article and the details before she closed the newspaper and shoved it, and the other two papers in bag. She didn't feel so much like reading anymore.

Now what would she do? She approached the desk attendant to ask how much longer they anticipated the delay would be. At least another forty five minutes.

Great. Just great.

Then, the familiar ring of her cell phone jangled from inside her purse. She peeked at the caller ID – it was Lane.

"Hey!" Rory answered, happy for the distraction.

"Hey yourself," Lane said. "How are you?"

"Ugh, I'm awful. I'm stuck in Chicago on this layover," Rory said.

"I know," Lane said. "I ran into your mom, she told me. I thought you could use someone to talk to."

"You thought right," Rory said.

"Plus, I have something really important to tell you, and it seems like the perfect time," Lane began.

"Oh, really? What?" Rory asked, excited.

"3065 Sunrise Drive," Lane said.

"What is that?" Rory asked.

"That …" Lane hesitated. "Is Logan's address in Palo Alto."

"Logan's … how did you …" Rory stammered, speechless.

"I called Logan a few nights ago – the night before your party, actually," Lane started. "When you went into use the bathroom, I looked through your phone and jotted down his numbers – and man, does that boy have a lot of numbers – and I just started making calls."

"Why did you do that?" Rory said, softly. Lane couldn't tell if she was angry.

"Because," Lane said. "Because you're my best friend and I don't want you to run away from his. I can see how much you miss him, and I just … I don't think you should have to. It doesn't seem like you're done with this."

"But I have to be," Rory said. "He made it clear. If I wasn't ready to move forward, then we were at an impasse."

"Isn't there another way to move forward?" Lane asked.

"He didn't leave much room for interpretation," Rory stated.

"Maybe it wasn't that he didn't leave much room for interpretation," Lane explained. "Maybe circumstances didn't allow for interpretation. I mean, time was tight, nerves were high, the pressure was on both of you. Maybe in a split second, when there wasn't much time to think, or rationalize, or analyze, some solutions were left out of the mix."

"What are you getting at?" Rory said.

"I'm saying that he missed you, and he wants you there with him," Lane said.

"As his wife … or at least as his fiancée," Rory finished.

"No," Lane said. "I mean, yes, eventually. But maybe you could go be with him and just be on your way to that. I mean, living in California, away from both of your families and your friends. That's different than living in New Haven, thirty minutes away from everyone in your life. This would really be a chance to start your lives. It would definitely be moving forward."

"I don't know how he'd feel about that," Rory asked.

"I do," Lane said. "You don't think I'd send you on a wild goose chase if I hadn't done a little research for you? He wants you there. And if this is how it has to be for awhile, he's okay with that. He's not done with you. And I know you're not done with him."

Just then, an announcement came over the loud speaker.

"Attention please," a female voice said. "All guests waiting to board flight 117 from Chicago to Des Moines International Airport, please be advised that we will begin boarding in 30 minutes. We apologize for the layover and any inconvenience the delay might have caused you."

"Lane, I have to go," Rory began. "They're going to start boarding in 30 minutes. I need to get my things packed up and make a last trip to the snack shop and the bathroom before I board."

"Are you mad?" Lane asked.

Rory thought.

"No … No, I'm not mad," Rory said. "I just can't think about this right now. It's great that he'd want me there. It's nice to know. But I wish he would've given me that option three weeks ago. I wish that option wasn't in front of me now, when I have to get on a plane to my future."

"I know, I know," Lane said. "It's inconvenient timing. But when is love ever convenient? I don't think convenient love works."

"Maybe, maybe not," Rory said. "All I know is … I just don't think there's anything I can do."

"Okay," Lane backed off. "It's your decision. And I will respect anything you decide to do because I'm your best friend, and I do trust that your happiness is something you can achieve, and if you get lost along the way, I will always be here to help you. … But can I say one last thing?"

"Go for it," Rory said, as she began packing her carry-on bag, and slipping her jacket on.

"Logan is a boy, and when a boy gets hurt when he puts himself out on a line … he doesn't always recover quickly, and sometimes, by the time he … grows a pair … enough to make a move, it's sometimes too late," Lane said. "Logan has left you with an opening here. And it's here, and it will be here for a little while, at least. So if you think that there's any chance that this is what you want and that this could work and that it's worth the risk to you, then do something about it. But do it soon. Don't leave it to chance. Because Rory … he will move on. Maybe not soon, but he will. Would you be okay with that? You don't have to answer that … it's just something to think over."

"Thanks Lane, I appreciate it, I do," Rory began, "And I will try to mull it over. But for now, I have to go. I love you – give the boys kisses for me!"

"I will," Lane said "And remember, 3065 Sunrise Drive. And I love you too."

Rory ended the call and made her way to the airport bathroom to freshen up. She stopped by the gift shop and grabbed a few magazines – she was one hundred percent certain that Glamour and Cosmopolitan would not mention Logan Huntzberger by name, so they should be safe. She grabbed a bag of cheese curls, a package of M&Ms and a small bottle of water.

As she exited the shop, she stopped briefly to put her magazines in her messenger bag, along with her snacks. She'd stepped forward to throw the bag she'd gotten in the trash when she was distracted by the board lighting up in front of her, listing flights leaving from the airport and was drawn to one particular flight.

Leaving in 30 minutes.

For San Francisco.

As she opened up her wallet to slip her receipt in, she was drawn to one other thing – a shiny American Express Platinum Card "for emergencies only" that Emily had given her when she was living in the pool house. Expiration date, 09/11.

Rory considered for a moment what Emily would consider to be an emergency.

Car trouble? Definitely.

A cup of coffee? Probably not, but $2 might go unnoticed.

A pair of shoes? Definitely not.

… A flight to San Francisco? Hard to say.

On the one hand, if it was a vacation, that would be inexcusable.

On the other hand, Emily and Richard loved Logan and were shocked to find out she had turned Logan down and really disappointed. If she swiped this card … to make amends … not that she was going to, and not that she could make amends … maybe that would be plausible.

Maybe.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay – I started back at school, so I had to get in the swing of things. Thanks for the support and wonderful reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy these installments. 

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 7**

Rory breathed a sigh of relief when her plane finally took off from O'Hare. Being stuck there for so long with so much on her mind and no place to go had been driving her crazy.

She still had a lot on her on her mind.

She had done nothing but think about this situation, about her life, about her future, constantly for the past three weeks. Logan proposing to her was stuck on loop on her head, like a painful song that just never ended. In her opinion, she'd done pretty well learning how to pretend that it wasn't bothering her (though Lane's interjection made her question otherwise).

And then, this job had come up. A job that in for all reasonable purposes was so logical and so expected, in the way that this was exactly the kind of job Rory deserved. This is what she had dreamed of since the first time she saw Christiane Amanpour broadcasting live and what she'd worked for since she made a piece about parking lot repaving seem like poetry. If anyone was due anything, Rory was due this job. But yet, she hadn't expected it. She'd expected to stay put for awhile. She'd expected to have a job that was at least some what stationary.

And then, just when she'd managed to find wrap her mind around both these things … or at least skillfully ignore what the one meant for the other … she'd been delivered this news. That maybe, probably, almost certainly, it was not too late.

Rory had all the facts – which is just how she preferred to approach a situation. (How could you make a pro-con list without a straight set of facts?) She'd worked her ass off at Yale and Chilton to be offered an amazing opportunity to see the country and watch what was bound to be a historic campaign from a seat that hundreds of people would die to have. And she'd been proposed to by the love of her life, a man who had jumpstarted her life and simultaneously excited her, challenged her, and occasionally infuriated her, for fear that this just wasn't the right time – and though she had turned him down, odds were very good that it wasn't too late to fix it.

But having these facts did not make her decision any easier.

She was in possession of two sets of facts in direct conflict with each other and no time to deliberate.

Rory couldn't help but remember the very few times in her life when she had made a split-second decision before without having more than a minute to think about the ramifications. When she'd decided to leave Yale in the middle of a final exam. When she'd decided to steal a yacht in a fit of anger with Logan. When she'd had to turn him down when he stood there in front of her, diamond in hand, audience in tow.

The odds were stacked against her, she felt. And here she was, having to make a very similar decision again – risky, scary – and no time. There was no place to hide, only a decision to be made.

And then, in her mind, she was affronted with the image of one time when she had to make a split second decision when the results were not awful. A beautiful fall afternoon in the fall of 2004, when she climbed to the top of a seven or eight story tower and, with nothing but an umbrella in one hand, and Logan's hand in another, she jumped – and landed on her feet. What was it he'd said to her that day?

"_Isn't this the point of being young? It's your choice, Ace. People can live a hundred years without really living for a minute. You climb up here with me, it's one less minute you haven't lived."_

If she had to pick a day when her life had really begun, there was no contest – it was that day. And it wasn't about being risky or defying death. It wasn't about being smashed all the time and sinking yachts off the coast of Fiji. It wasn't about crimes and misdemeanors (or felonies). It wasn't about ice cream beer floats or being a sloth. These things happened to be a part of her life … a life that, mistakes or not, she had loved. And what she loved about it was that these memories, good, bad and in between, were with him. All the bad paled in comparison and even became laughable, simply because he'd been a part of it. And she wouldn't lie – she'd often dreamt about the day when she'd have to tell her children that she and their father once stole a boat together. The way he lived life day to day and was able to laugh things off eased her, and balanced her lifestyle of careful planning. Coincidentally enough, he'd been the one to make the plans for him this time, and now, not for the first time, she was left having to be the one to make the impulsive decision, which was difficult to without him there to calm her nerves and talk her down. How strange it was, she'd thought to herself, that at one point in time the only person who knew how to calm her and get inside her head was her mother. And now, though she loved Lorelai and was grateful for her mother … it was him she needed, him she longed for. He set the rhythm and pace for her as much as her own heart.

A heart that was now beating out of her chest because she'd had to make a decision. She had to choose. San Francisco or Des Moines? Career or love? There had been no time for a pro-con list, only for a deep breath, and a very final leap – for whichever path she chose, she'd be ending something right then and there.

And now, just a few short hours later, she was in a cab and even closer to her final destination.

When the cab pulled up at the curb, Rory gave the driver the last few dollars she had, slid out from the backseat, and stood in awe at the sight before her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay – I started back at school, so I had to get in the swing of things. Thanks for the support and wonderful reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy these installments. 

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 8**

Suddenly, she was nervous. She hadn't realized how much she had been waiting for this moment and the nerves that it would elicit within her.

She'd spent the entire plane ride thinking about what to say and how to say it … but now, when she was where she wanted to be, about to say and do the things she wanted to do … she couldn't remember any of it. She was at a complete loss for words.

And so she simply stood there for a minutes, taking in the view.

The house was beautiful.

It had a decent sized front yard, and a big beautiful front porch – the kind of porch that was perfect to sit out on and read all day until the night fell. It reminded her of her porch in Stars Hollow. Instantly, it reminded her of home … had he known what a comforting feature it would be to her? Of course he had.

The house itself was made mostly of light tan brick. The house seemed light and airy, even from the front yard. Ceiling to floor window panes lined the front rooms. Looking up, Rory noticed a beautiful picture window that appeared to have a window seat. She took a step to the side to look towards the backyard, where she saw it – the avocado tree.

Rory was instantly overcome by the beauty of the house and by the beauty in the gesture – this was the house Logan had picked out for them to start their lives in. It was perfect.

It took her forever to approach the front door. It took her forever to compose herself to even get up the steps to get to the front door.

Eventually, she made it.

Then she just had to get up the bravery to knock. Or ring the door bell. Which should she do? Sometimes, people don't hear knocking. But some people think door bells are just annoying.

This was silly. She told herself. But nevertheless, she scurried down the steps again, down the front path, and down a considerable length of the sidewalk where she was sure he couldn't see her if he looked out the window.

She fiddled with the things in her messenger bag, searching for her phone. She speed dialed Lane and waited for the answer.

"Hello?" Lane answered, carefully holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she finished changing Kwan's diaper.

"I have no idea what I am doing, and it is all your fault," Rory said.

"Hang on," Lane said. She motioned for Zach to come over and finish the job, and then made her way out to the porch. Now, diaper-free, she could address the situation at hand – and hoped beyond hope that Rory had come to her senses. "So what is it that you're doing, and why is it my fault?"

"I can't knock. Or ring the door bell," Rory said, each word short, fractured and panicked.

"What?" Lane said.

"I just stood there, on the porch not knowing what to do. I feel like I've been here for hours," Rory said.

"Been where for hours?" Lane asked.

Rory hesitated, feeling stupid for being where she was, for throwing her perfect job out the window. Even though Lane had encouraged her, she felt silly to even say it. Because even though Lane had helped her to get to this point, and even though she did feel in her gut that there was no way that this could be wrong, she was afraid. She was alone in her fear, and Lane was thousands of miles away. It would be easier to be starting a new job, she thought to herself.

"Rory, where are you?" Lane responded to the silence.

"California."

"You're in California? How did you end up in California?" Lane asked, excitedly.

"I dematerialized in Chicago, and rematerialized in San Francisco," Rory retorted. "I flew, how do you think I got here? Why do you sound so surprised? You're the one who told me to do this!"

"I just didn't think you would, I didn't think you would have the guts. I mean, I figured you'd stew over it for a few weeks, give him a call. I never thought you'd actually take the address and go to California, it's very un-Rory," Lane began, honestly. "Not that I'm not glad you did it – I am, it's great. But how did you manage to afford it?"

"Credit card," Rory said. "Not mine. My grandparents'."

"Ballsy," Lane admired.

"Yes. If by ballsy you mean stupid," Rory responded. "I'm in a state I've never been in, in a gigantic city that I couldn't begin to navigate, to chase down a boy whose proposal I turned down, for which I had to throw a perfectly good job opportunity to the dogs, and I paid for it all with my grandparents' credit card, without asking. If I ever go back to Connecticut, my whole immediately family is going to line up to tar and feather me."

"You're overreacting," Lane attempted to calm her down. "It's just your grandparents. And hey, you only bought yourself a ticket to California – that's tame. Didn't you tell me that your grandma once tried to buy a whole plane in a fit of rage? You're doing just fine."

"It's not just them, you know," Rory said, softly.

"We're talking Lorelai?" Lane said.

"Yea," Rory said. "I mean, she went crazy with me over the past few days to get me ready to go. She beat the emotional crap out of herself to send me away, helping me pack, thinking it was for this amazing job … and then I didn't even make it to Iowa. I bailed out on said job before I ever even got on the plane to get to the job, and instead, got on a job to come to California, for a man my mom doesn't really want me to marry. And it might not even work out. And if it doesn't, I don't have the job, I don't have the man, and I also don't have any underwear or clothes, or any of my belongings that I packed, because my luggage was already checked and bound for Des Moines."

"Okay, first of all – you can get your luggage back, that should be the least of your worries," Lane began. "And second, your mom just doesn't want you to get married young and regret it. That doesn't have anything to do with whether or not she approves of Logan. The very fact that she told him it was okay with her to ask you to marry him means she must, on some level, like him, because your mom is not one to hold back. It's got to be scary for her as your mom – remember that. Her whole life, she's been able to teach you and guide you. This is not something she can teach you how to do or to be ready for … she hasn't been there herself yet, really, at least not successfully. She's afraid for you because she loves you, but if this is what will make you happy, then you know she'll get on board."

"I hope so … of course, doing that requires that I actually get up the nerve to go knock on the door," Rory said.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay – I started back at school, so I had to get in the swing of things. Thanks for the support and wonderful reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy these installments. 

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 9**

It was nearly noon in California when Logan finally decided to drag himself out of bed.

He'd spent the past day and a half agonizing over Lane's call, and had yet to make any sort of decision on what to do about it. It was Monday now – the day Rory would be arriving in Iowa for her new job – and for Logan, it was just another day where her void was even more obvious than the day before.

He'd laid in bed awake since 8 a.m., flipping channels on a tiny TV without many channels. It was miserable. The room was plain white – he hadn't bothered to even consider painting yet. Painting would mean he was staying. He wasn't convinced he was yet. He'd attempted to put sheets on his bed – then he realized that it was the same bedding he and Rory had slept in together, and it suddenly made him feel panicky. So he laid there on a mattress pad, with one pillow and a throw blanket, his bedding in a pile in the corner not far from the pitiful TV stacked on top of a crate. He hadn't gotten a flat screen installed anywhere in the house yet – that would also mean he had decided to stay.

'This is pathetic,' he thought inwardly. 'I am pathetic.'

He thought that over and over again until finally, at noon, he decided he may has well get up and be pathetic somewhere else in the house.

So he decided to go be pathetic in the shower. And the shower was where he became truly pathetic. Here in the shower, it was the only time he would allow himself to even contemplate the concept of crying. He was a man. A virile, Huntzberger man, born the heir to a fortune and the direct descendent of men before him known to be some of the very best playboys the world had ever seen. A Huntzberger man did not cry over a woman – there were always more women.

In his heart, Logan knew that for him there were no other women and returning to that life he lived before Rory was almost unimaginable. He actually found it distasteful, tacky, even revolting. Rory had worked his way into his heart and changed his entire outlook on life. And so now, not only didn't he want to return to his previous existence because it disgusted him, he had become a one-woman kind of man, so faithful and so much in love that the very concept of finding another girl made him feel ill. So here in his shower, Huntzberger or not, he could feel true remorse. Here in his shower, Logan felt safe to let his eyes well up and let a tear run down his face. because he could just as safely convince himself that shampoo had gotten in his eye and that's what had made his eyes water involuntarily.

'Maybe it would be better if I started work,' Logan thought to himself.

But unfortunately, work wouldn't start 'til next Monday – a whole week from today. That meant seven more Rory-less days in the pathetic, undecorated house he'd bought for her. Would he be able to make it that long without some sort of distraction.

He emerged from his shower a long half hour later only to remember he'd yet to unpack any towels. All that was in his bathroom was a bottle of shampoo, a bar of soap, some hand soap, a roll of paper towel, a toothbrush and a travel size toothpaste. It wasn't even furnished and stocked as nicely as a cheap motel bathroom. He'd taken one shower a couple of days ago … he couldn't remember when. The days ran together. That day he'd had enough sense to dig a towel out of a box. Today, he'd have to clamor from the master bathroom, to the master bedroom, soaking wet, dripping on his wood floor into a room where he had yet to put up any curtains or blinds. At least there was a good distance between his house and the neighbors house … and a few trees.

And so he hurried to their room – his room, really. In this house, everything echoed – the cathedral ceilings, the wood floors, the openness of the structure itself – you could hear everything. Every footstep echoed, reminding him how alone he was. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the way Rory's high pitched voice would carry through the house, and that even the soft pitter patter of her feet would not go unnoticed.

He found a box of linens, and dug for a towel. He gave his hair a quick towel dry. As he did, he could've sworn he'd heard the sound of something on his front porch. Quick footsteps, maybe? Someone jogging up the front porch stairs? In heels?

'Maybe the newspaper,' Logan thought to himself. But it was awfully late for a newspaper to arrive – it was approaching 1 p.m. 'Probably a squirrel,' he decided.

Logan wrapped the towel around his waist and began to shuffle boxes in search of clothing. The first pair of destroyed, ratty jeans that he pulled out of the box and an old light blue pocket tee shirt would do. After all, who was he trying to impress? Since his arrival, his only visitors had been the mailman, the paper carrier, and apparently, a very loud squirrel.

And then he heard the noise again.

And Logan found himself curious.

As he dressed himself, he toyed with the idea of looking out on the front yard to see if anyone was there. But by the time he'd gotten himself dressed, he was sure whomever or whatever it was would be gone.

He moved into the second floor living area, adjacent to the master bedroom. A beautiful, spacious area. Nice, private – a great place for storing insane amounts of books, movies and music. He'd envisioned it as their private home theatre and library. There wasn't much in the room. Several boxes of personal belongings, but again, no furniture. The only furniture he'd bothered to buy as soon as he arrived was a bed. On top of one stack of boxes was, however, an IKEA Catalog that had arrived yesterday.

'Might as well look,' he thought to himself. The boxes were stacked against the railing next to the stairs, which overlooked the foyer and his favorite part of the house – a set of gigantic window panes that looked straight out to the lawn.

As he reached for the catalog, he almost didn't notice her. It wasn't until he'd already started thumbing through the catalog that he actually understood what he'd saw. His pulse began racing as he contemplated, without looking, what he swore he'd just seen.

A woman.

About five foot seven.

Her back to him, with long brown hair in a pony tail.

Carrying a black leather messenger back.

On a cell phone.

'It can't be,' he thought to himself.

But yet he swore he'd seen it.

And so, unable to control the impulse, he slowly looked up from the catalog, preparing himself to be disappointed and to have only imagine the figure.

But he hadn't.

He stood and watched the girl, her back still to him. He watched her head move in conversation, her right hand holding the phone to her hear, her left hand moving along with her in conversation as though the person on the other line was right there. He stood in awe.

He questioned whether or not it was Rory. He questioned whether or not he was crazy.

But even in all his depression over the recent days, he'd never actually seen her physical form as real as he saw it right now. He'd only imagined her when he closed his eyes or saw her in his dreams. It had to be her … even from this angle, everything about her was uncanny. Her posture, her physique, and her mannerisms all screamed Rory Gilmore.

So he put down the catalog, And very slowly he made his way down the stairs.

He looked out the windows on either side of the double front doors – she was still there.

He watched her hang up the phone and slip it into her bag.

She briefly turned her head in the direction of the house and Logan ducked his head away from the window.

It was definitely her. Pale skin, piercing blue eyes, soft pink lips.

'But why am I hiding?' he asked himself. Of course the better question he later arrived on was 'Why is she here? Why hasn't she knocked on the door? What is she doing standing on the sidewalk in front of my house?'

But he was able to answer all that himself almost simultaneously with very little thought.

She was being Rory. She was nervous. She probably wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there either. She was formulating a plan, a speech, something eloquent to say. She was convincing herself that she could do this. She was making a conscientious effort to talk slowly. And he was hiding because he knew that if she hadn't knocked yet, she wasn't ready to see him. He knew what she needed, even if she didn't know that he knew she was there to be mindful of her needs.

And he was right.

He looked out the window to find that Rory had turned back to face the street.

He slid down, back against the door to process this for a moment.

He had two options. He could wait here for her to knock on the door. But he could waste an entire day hoping Rory wouldn't see him in the window and panic in giving her time. There was a good chance that he'd wake up to find her asleep on the lawn. However, there was just as good a chance that Rory, being the big scaredy cat she could sometimes be, would leave.

And if she was going to leave, shouldn't he just let her? Let he be and do as she pleased without forcing anything on her that she wasn't ready for.

But then again – this was Rory. And Rory, as he'd come to know her, often needed encouraging, even to do the things she most wanted to do. It didn't mean she didn't really want those things.

Which brought him to his second option – he could open the door and call out to her and end her misery and hopefully, hopefully, hopefully … they could straighten some things out.

Logan didn't need a pro-con list to know that the risk of rejection was worth opening the door, given how far Rory had come and that she had done this herself. He knew what she was giving up to be standing on the sidewalk in front of the home he'd picked for them. What kind of man would he be to the woman he wanted to love for the rest of his life is he wasn't able to put aside his fears, be a man, and ease her worry.

So he stood up, and slowly, he opened the door, hoping it wouldn't creak and startle her – it didn't.

He stepped out onto the porch, not bothering to close the door behind him.

He intended to say something.

But suddenly, he couldn't.

He found himself paralyzed by the very fact that she was in such close proximity, closer than she'd been in weeks … though it felt like years. And even though she stood 20 feet from him, he swore he could smell the familiar sent of her shampoo and her light perfume mixing. He started to talk, but his mouth was dry.

And so, as he attempted to compose himself, he decided to simply lean against the front of the house, near the door, and watch her, happy that she was there for him to be in awe of, and happy to wait until she turned around again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Still a work in progress. Enjoy, review. Hopefully chapters 11 and 12 will be out mid next week. 

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 10**

Rory felt slightly better as she hung up the phone with Lane.

She took a quick glance backward at the beautiful house again and then faced out towards the street again, taking a deep breath.

'I can do this,' she told herself. 'I have to do this.'

She tried to force herself to be calm and composed.

Up those porch steps, and behind those double front doors, was the man she loved. Her future, the rest of her life, everything she knew she needed and wanted was behind those doors. The only way to start that future, was to knock.

As she prepared herself to turn around, she could almost swear that she could smell Logan. The faint hint of Old Spice – his body wash and deodorant – lingered around her. She felt as though the house had eyes – it was watching her, waiting for her to enter and make it her home, waiting for her to begin her life.

'This is a really pretty neighborhood,' she thought to herself. California all seemed so glitzy and glamorous, even Palo Alto. But somehow, Logan had managed to find a street that, while adorned with beautiful houses, they were a little more modest, and it seemed a little more friendly and welcoming – the only thing that would make it feel more welcoming and homey was a gazebo and a Luke's Diner. She looked down the street to her right at the houses surrounding her … and then to her left.

And that's when she saw him out of the corner of her eye – it startled her.

"Oh my God!" Rory exclaimed, as she jumped and faced the house to see Logan standing there, leaning against the house to the right side of the double doors, watching her.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked him.

"About five minutes," he said, his voice soft. "How long have you been standing there?"

"About a half an hour," Rory said sheepishly.

"Whatcha doin'?" Logan said in a soft, teasing voice.

"I … I …" Rory stammered, looking him over up and down. His face, his eyes, his body, his feet. "You're not wearing any shoes."

"Yea, well, I kept hearing this scampering up and down my stairs, and it sounded like a really big squirrel was about to break in," he said. "I had to come running."

"Oh," Rory said.

"You didn't answer me," he said, and then asked again, "What are you doing?"

"I'm here to see you," she said, softly.

"Why?" Logan asked.

"Because." Rory answered succinctly.

"Because why?" Logan said with a smirk.

Rory stayed silent and looked at her feet.

Logan was simultaneously enamored with her and frustrated with her. She could be so cute and so like a little kid – it was adorable. But at the same time, he sometimes wished she would just spit it out and say what she was thinking, without analyzing it all.

"C'mon Rory," Logan said. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be on a campaign bus in Iowa with Barack Obama and instead, you're on our front lawn. Or is it my front lawn? I don't know, because I'm not sure what you're doing here."

He stepped forward on the porch and sat down on the first stair.

"We went our separate ways. You didn't want to marry me. You wanted your life and your freedom, and now you're here. The past few weeks have been hell for me. I'm sure they haven't been easy for you either. But now you're here, and it's even more torture – because I don't know why or for how long," he said.

Rory considered his words and, as he took a breath to begin again, she began to speak instead.

"It wasn't supposed to end that way," Rory said. "Not you and me. We weren't supposed to be done that way. We weren't even supposed to be done."

"Then why didn't you want to marry me?" Logan said.

"It's not that I didn't want to marry you," Rory answered. "Don't you know enough about me by now to know that?"

"I don't know what I know anymore, Rory. My life has been turned upside down inside of a few weeks," he explained.

Rory took a few steps forward, still nervous, but also growing in confidence.

"Logan, I love you," she said. "Don't you know that?"

"I do know that," he said. "But I'm not sure where that leaves us if you don't want to marry me."

"Logan," she began, "I'm here because I can't live without you. I'm here because I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I've known that for awhile now. It's never been a question of whether or not I 'want' to marry you. The question is whether I'm ready. Those are two totally different things."

"So where does that leave us?" Logan said.

"I understand where you're at in your life Logan, I know you want to move forward," Rory explained. "And I know that the long distance thing wouldn't work. I was silly to ever suggest that idea. We're closer now than we were when you were in London. And it's just too hard."

"Which is why I thought getting engaged seemed like a good idea," he said.

"It is a good idea … in theory," she said.

"What does that mean?" Logan asked, a little off-put.

Rory took a few more steps forward, set her bag down at the foot of the porch, and made her way up the steps until she was close to Logan.

"May I?" she motioned to sit down.

"Sure," Logan nodded. "It was supposed to be your porch, too."

Rory could hear his disappointment, still, and his voice shook, only a little, with uncertainty – only enough for someone who really knew him to notice.

"Where was I?" she asked.

"You were about to explain to me why getting married to me was only good 'in theory,'" he said with a hint of hurt and agitation.

"Right," she said. "I haven't really had a lot of time to just be a grown, adult woman, you know? I've always had this responsibility of school and being the best in school and building this resume for a dream career. I've never gotten to really be a grown-up yet. I just graduated. I just started looking for a job. And you know me – I need time to adjust to things.

"So, for you to propose to me, just a few days before I graduated … when I had no job, when I was just about to be thrust into the real world, away from the shelter of Yale and quite possibly the place I've lived in and the same people I've lived with for all of my life … I was already dealing with a lot.

"And then I have this other set of big changes to grapple with. Getting married. Planning a wedding. Finding a job. Moving across the country to a city and a state I've never even visited. That's a lot to deal with … even if everything about that set of changes is really something I want."

"Are you saying you've adjusted now?" he said.

"No," she said. His face fell. "But I want to get myself adjusted."

"What does that mean?" he said.

"I'm not ready to be engaged yet. I can't wrap my mind around planning a wedding yet," she said. "But I was about to set out on a cross county tour on a campaign bus and live out of a suitcase in crappy motels … I could probably make a move to California instead. It's definitely a lot more stable.

"I mean … I'll still need to find a job. And that will take time. And I'm not saying it's going to be easy, because I'm going to miss my mom, and Stars Hollow, and my friends.

"Buuuutttt," she continued, drawing out the word and she looked towards him. He was already looking at her, and they locked eyes. It felt like something in her mind switched on and came alive as it hadn't in days. "But, if you still want me here, and if you don't mind taking in a jobless refugee who can't really pay any rent for a little while –"

And finally, Logan let his senses take a hold of him. With her this close, saying the things she was saying, and easing his pain, he couldn't stop himself.

In a split second, he'd cupped her face in his hands and cut her off with a breath taking kiss and ignited every sense in her body.

His kiss was gentle, but forceful; soft, but passionate. His breath was minty from just brushing his death and his lips were warm.

He felt relieved to have her mouth on his again. The familiar taste of strawberry chapstick, the texture and softness of her lips, and the small but cute groan that escaped her lips with the surprise of the kiss made him forget why he'd ever been sad.

She pulled away, to look him in the eyes.

"Does that mean I can stay here with you?" Rory asked.

Logan answered her with another short but fiery kiss.

"For a smart girl, you can be awful dense, Ace," he answered, at a whisper she could here only because she was so close.

She closed the gap between him with another kiss, holding onto this one longer, running her fingers through his hair and drawing light circles over the back of his neck with the fingers of her right hand. She followed it with another kiss, sucking briefly on his bottom lip and tracing it lightly with her tongue for only a second, making it his turn to let a deep groan escape. But this time, he was the one to stop her.

"Can I ask you one question?" he said.

"Sure," Rory nodded.

"Where are all your things?" Logan asked.

"Well, I was stuck on a long layover in O'Hare, between Hartford and Des Moines, when I decided to make a detour to California," she said. "It didn't occur to me 'til I was already on the flight that my luggage was checked for a flight to Des Moines. Clearly I don't operate well without a plan."

"How did you pay for the ticket?" he asked.

"I didn't," she said, sheepishly. "Richard and Emily did … I kind of expanded the definition of 'for-emergencies-only-credit-card' to include a trip to California to be with you. They don't know yet."

"Wow, Gilmore," he said. "You took an awful lot of gutsy risks to get here."

"Yea, I did … but desperate times call for desperate measures," she smiled. "Of course that means I don't have any clean clothes or underwear here."

"I'm not going to argue with that," Logan laughed, and kissed her. She swatted at him, jokingly. "Of course, I can probably help you make a few calls to get them back."

"Well, if we're going to go make calls, we should probably go inside the house," she suggested. "Our house."

Logan smiled and stood up, and offered her his hand, pulling her up and picking up her bag.

"I like the way that sounds," he said, intertwining his fingers with hers and leading her to the still open door.

And as he led her through the doorway and into the house the had been begging for her since the day he moved in, he whispered into her ear.

"Welcome home."

**A/N: This story isn't done yet. :)**

**I'll update more this week.  
**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Still a work in progress. Enjoy, review. Hopefully chapters 11 and 12 will be out mid next week. 

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 11**

"I know it's a little small," Logan began as he ushered Rory into the foyer. "Only about 4,000 square feet."

Rory's jaw dropped a little, "Your definition of small and my definition of small are two totally different things. That's huge."

"Well, it's less than half the size of my parents' house," he said. "So it's smaller than that."

"Yes, and the only thing differentiating your parents' house from a castle is a moat and a draw bridge," Rory remarked.

"Well, you should have a castle," Logan said, turning to face her and taking both her hands in his. "But this is what I can afford – for now."

"I don't need a castle," Rory whispered, and kissed him softly. "So, show me around."

"Well, right now, we're on the first floor, in the foyer," he said.

"No, really?" Rory quipped.

Logan simply smirked at her and continued with the tour.

The first floor was big and open. To the left of the entry way was a small sitting room and a coat closet, with double doors that opened to the dining room. The dining room as also connected to the kitchen, was in the back left corner of the house coming from the entry way. The kitchen was gorgeous – Rory couldn't help but think of how jealous Sookie would be of the space. The countertops were granite and there was an island in the middle with a stove top and an oven. On the opposite side was a small seating area – kind of like a breakfast bar. Attached to the kitchen, to the right, was a large walk-in pantry. On the left hand wall of the kitchen was a door leading out to the wraparound porch.

The kitchen, dining room and sitting room were all connected to the main hallway, which wrapped around the staircase. Under the staircase was a small half bathroom.

To the right of the main entry way was the living room, which took up the entire right side of the house. In the back right corner of the room was a fire place and against the far right wall of the room was a built in bar. Over the area of the first floor where the second floor was not directly overhead, the ceilings were lofted.

Directly up the stairs was a smaller living area – more private. The back of the room had two sliding glass doors that opened up to small balcony. Rory paused to look out onto the backyard – spacious, with a nice patio area, and of course, the avocado tree. Rory smiled.

To the left, was a hallway that led to a small room – "A guest bedroom," Logan said, all while thinking to himself, 'For now.' He'd envisioned this eventually, maybe some day, becoming a nursery – which still scared him. Rory had only just returned. He didn't want to spook her.

Across the hall from that was a bathroom, with a tub. Next to it was another smaller room. "I figured this would be a nice office space – there's enough room for us to share it," he explained.

On the other side of the second floor was a set of double doors that opened to a big, beautiful master bedroom. Both of the bedrooms looked out on the front yard, and each had big window seat. The bedroom was attached to a master bathroom, with a big, Jacuzzi style tub – deep enough and large enough for two, easily. There was also a stand-up shower and a vanity with two sinks and mirrors. Also adjoining to the bedroom were two large walk-in closets.

"What do you think?" Logan asked, sitting down on the bed.

"It's beautiful," Rory said.

"Really?" Logan double-checked.

"It's perfect," Rory assure him. "But I have one important question."

"Which is?"

"Where is all your stuff?" she said. "You have a nice, beautiful house … and no furniture."

"Well, I didn't want to ship furniture across the country," he said. "And … I mean, I wasn't planning to move here alone. I thought we'd shop for new furniture together."

"Well, now we can," Rory said, and sat down on the bed next to him. "But why didn't you unpack? You don't even have bedding on your bed. Haven't you been bored? And uncomfortable?"

"The bedding's over there," he pointed to the corner where he'd left it after he'd torn it up. "And I wasn't sure I was staying."

"What?" Rory asked.

"I thought I might not stay," Logan said. "I rented the house when I thought we'd be getting married. It felt very empty being here. It wasn't what I expected. No friends yet. No work yet. I had every reason to just pick up and move back to Hartford and sell my soul back to Mitchum."

"I'm really, really glad you didn't," Rory said.

"But now you're here … and if you're staying, then I'm staying too," he said. "Which means we can go shopping for anything we need."

"We could," Rory responded. She paused before she said anything else, and set her hand on his knee. Logan's eyes fixed on hers. "But there's something else I'd rather do."

Rory leaned in to kiss him, her hands sliding up to his chest. Logan responded eagerly.

"Although, if you'd really rather go shopping, we could," Rory teased.

Logan shook his head briefly and responded with a fierce kiss, wrapping his arms around her and guiding them back on to the bed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Hope you continue to enjoy the updates.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 12**

"How was your dinner?" Luke called to Lorelai from the kitchen as he finished cleaning.

"It was good," Lorelai said back to him from her spot on the couch in her living room. She was obviously distracted, Luke could tell. Maybe flipping channels, or looking through a trashy magazine.

But when he made it out to the living room, he found her staring at her phone.

"Are you waiting for it to a trick?" he asked her.

"No," she said. "I'm waiting for it to ring. It's almost eight. I should've heard from Rory by now – she told me she'd call me the second she landed."

"She probably just got busy," Luke said. "It's a fast-paced job, isn't it? I mean, being on a presidential campaign? She'll call."

"I know, I know," she started. "But she should've already called. I mean, when you're getting on a plane to go a couple thousand miles away, you're supposed to call your mother so she doesn't think your plane crashed or that it got hi-jacked by terrorists."

"You know her plane didn't crash, or get hi-jacked by terrorists. We would've already heard something on the news. Or you would've gotten a call," Luke assured her.

"I know," Lorelai's voice got soft.

Luke sat down and put his arm around her, occasionally brushing the tips of his fingers through her hair. "You miss her?"

"No," Lorelai said. "I mean, yes – I miss her. But that's not really what I'm upset about. I'm worried about her."

"Well, that's natural," he said. "Her first big job, in a new, constantly changing environment. I'm worried about April going off to this summer camp. I can only imagine what you're feeling."

"It's not even that," she responded. "I know Rory can handle any job. She's super girl. Super woman, I guess. But I know she'll be fine with the job. But I'm worried about her. She wasn't in a good place when she left."

"What do you mean?" Luke asked.

"Well … see, you missed a few important things over the past few weeks," Lorelai began.

"Like?" Luke prompted her.

"Like Logan proposed," Lorelai said.

"He proposed?" Luke asked, almost frantically.

"On the night before her graduation," Lorelai continued.

"On the night before her graduation?" Luke affirmed.

"Stop repeating everything I say," Lorelai said, partially kidding, partially annoyed.

"Sorry," he said. "Just trying to wrap my mind around it. Wow, he proposed."

"Yep," she answered. "My baby girl, twenty three years old, got proposed to."

"I can't at all tell how you feel about that," Luke said, sarcastically.

"I know," Lorelai said. "That's kind of the problem. See, Rory, being Rory, couldn't say yes on the spot. I mean, I felt for Logan – he's a good guy and all. And for former Mr.-Playboy-America to have relinquished his title years ago now for her, and then to propose to her in front of a huge crowd and have her not sure? Probably felt like a swift kick in the you-know-where."

"Maybe worse," Luke responded sympathetically.

"Right, maybe worse," Lorelai said. "So after all this, she takes the ring to think it over, and then he comes to her graduation and she hands him back the ring box. She doesn't want to be married yet, she doesn't want to be tied down. She's too young."

"She thinks she's too young or you think she's too young?" Luke asked.

"Both," she said. "Well, I think. See that's the thing. I didn't do a very good job hiding how I felt. And of course, I don't know if the opinion she thought I had effected her decision, and even if it did, she wouldn't tell me that, because she's Rory and she wouldn't want to hurt anyone. But Logan didn't want to do the long distance thing again. And then just a few days later, she got this job offer."

"Wow," Luke said. "That's a lot for someone to take all at once."

"Especially for Rory," Lorelai agreed. "So then she got this job and I'm so proud of her. But I'm just worried about her. I feel like she's maybe running from this situation and not really dealing with it. I'm glad she made this decision – I think it was the right decision."

"What would you have done if she'd said yes?" Luke said.

Lorelai looked shocked. "I … I … I don't know," she started. "I mean, I would've supported her, but I guess I would've just been questioning it and worrying, too."

"Would it have been the world's most awful thing if she had decided to marry Logan?" Luke asked.

"Well, it would've been a change," Lorelai said. "I mean, she would've moved across country – and soon. And she would've been trying to find a new job, in a new state, without any of her friends or family around. And Logan … well … I just don't know."

"Still don't know how you feel about the guy, huh?" Luke asked, a strange tone in his voice.

"Well, you've never really liked him," Lorelai said.

"That's not true," Luke said.

"It is so true!" Lorelai fought. "When we were up in the Vineyard with them, you were this close to snapping his head off."

"For awhile," Luke said. "But it was more just because I didn't want Rory to get hurt. And that was a long time ago now. Rory's changed. Logan's changed. They've grown up. And Logan is a pretty good guy, you have to admit. I mean, he flew in on a helicopter to be with her when Richard had his heart attack. He let her live in his apartment rent free for a long time. He cares about her. And he's made some mistakes, but so has Rory. I mean, wouldn't you hate it if for some reason she really wanted to be with someone, but part of the reason he wouldn't be with her is because he or his family were judgmental about the fact hat Rory had stolen a yacht and temporarily left Yale?"

Lorelai remained silent.

"Look, I'm not saying you were wrong or right, or that Rory was wrong or right," Luke said. "I'm just saying that for all the guys who could've proposed to Rory … she could've done a lot worse. And she might be young. But I mean … you were young when you had Rory, and look at how successful you have been. Anything is possible."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, my friend, even out of the dog house," Lorelai responded shaking her finger at him jokingly.

"You really hated what I had to say that much?" Luke said.

"No … I didn't," Lorelai said. "It's just that it's so hard to even think about. My little girl … married? It's hard. Just you wait. And besides that, now, it's too late. What's done is done. So now, I'm just worried about how she's holding up."

"Have you called her yet?" Luke asked.

"Twice." Lorelai replied.

"Once more," he said. "And then you let her call you back."

Lorelai speed dialed Rory one more time and waited as the phone rang.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Hope you continue to enjoy the updates.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 13**

It was about 5 p.m. in Palo Alto. The sunlight was now shining into the bedroom brightly as the sun moved from directly overhead to a more westward position and glared through the windows.

But that wasn't what woke Logan from he and Rory's impromptu nap.

What woke Logan was the familiar sound chime of Rory's Sidekick.

He carefully, quietly, got out of bed, slipped his boxers on and searched for her bag, which was on the window seat. The sun shone bright in his eyes. 'We have got to get curtains,' he thought to himself. He rummaged around in her messenger bag to find the phone and saw the caller I.D. which read clearly "Home."

He sat down next to her on her side of the bed and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Rory," he said softly, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder. "Rory, your phone's ringing."

"Let it ring," she mumbled into the pillow.

"The caller I.D. says it's your house," he said. "I'm guessing it's your mom."

Rory's eyes snapped open.

'Crap,' she thought to herself. 'I haven't called my mom all day. She has no idea that I'm in California. She has no idea where I am.'

She took the phone from him and answered.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hey, there, my little traveler!" Lorelai said, relieved. "How's the open road?"

"What?" Rory said, struggling to gain a clear sense of consciousness after her nap, and trying to formulate clear responses.

"How's the road? You're on the bus right? I assumed you'd gone through some areas with bad reception, which is why you hadn't called to let me know you had landed safely and why you didn't answer before," Lorelai responded.

"Right, right," Rory answered. "Bad reception."

"So how is it?" Lorelai asked.

"It's, um … good, it's really good," Rory said. She struggled for answer. She didn't want to lie.

"So have you gotten to meet him yet?" Lorelai asked.

"Met who?" Rory responded.

"Barack Obama," Lorelai replied. "Is he as cool as he seems?"

"Um, I haven't really gotten to see him yet. Just from a distance," Rory said.

'That was a lie,' she made a mental note, and felt guilty. At that point, she noticed Logan sitting in the window seat, staring at her, head cocked, inquisitively.

"Well, you have time," Lorelai said.

"So, uh, how's Luke?" Rory asked, trying to get her mother onto another topic.

"He's good, he's right here, actually," Lorelai said.

"Well, tell him I say hey," she said.

"I will," Lorelai said.

"Listen, Mom, I should get going, I'm really sorry," Rory interjected before her mother could say anything else.

"Oh … okay," Lorelai said, somewhat disappointed at first. "You want to make a good impression."

"Right," Rory said. "But I love you. And I'll talk to you really soon, okay?"

"Okay, I love you too. Be safe. And make sure you take good notes, so if this doesn't go well, you can write your expose, like Joe Klein did with Primary Colors."

"I will," Rory laughed.

She hung up the phone and looked over at Logan.

"So, that was your mom," Logan stated.

"Yep," Rory said.

"Where does she think you are?" Logan asked.

"Why do you ask?" she said, looking at her feet.

"Because," he said. "You seemed to hesitate with everything you said."

"I'm tired," Rory said.

"And you said you hadn't seen 'him,' yet. And you've seen me. And I'm a 'him,' last I checked," he said.

"Oh, you're definitely a him," Rory looked up at him, and smiled seductively. "I can confirm that as of just a few hours ago."

"Cute," he said. "But not the point. Where does she think you are?"

Rory hesitated for another second before taking a deep breath and telling him.

"She thinks I'm in Iowa, on a campaign bus, about to see Barack Obama," she said. "Which is not crazy, considering this morning, she dropped me off at an airport in Hartford, for a flight to Chicago where I would then get on a flight connecting to Des Moines. And I called her from Chicago, while I was waiting for said flight."

"So she doesn't know you're in California?" Logan asked.

"No," Rory said softly.

"Why?" Logan said.

"Because," Rory began. "Because, I care what my mother thinks. And if I'd told her what I was doing before I did it, she might have been able to talk me out of it. And I didn't want to be talked out of it."

"Your mom really doesn't want us together, does she?" he asked.

"No, Logan, it's not that," she got up to go sit with him on the window seat. "She just … thinks I'm too young to get married. Which is very different from what I think. I'm just not ready yet. Age doesn't really matter. But if she'd known beforehand that I was about to give up this job to come out here … it just wouldn't have been good."

"Will you telling her over the phone that you're in California, with me, not at your new job go over any better?" he asked.

"Probably not. But now it's done," she said. "And I'm happy that I'm here. I'm happier to be here than I would be on that campaign bus. And I'm happy to not be on a bus wondering what I could have, and being stuck on the trail. I'm happy to be here with you."

"Do you really think your mom would've talked you out of coming here? Would she really have been able to?" Logan asked, anxiously. "Because if she would, then maybe you shouldn't be here."

"Logan, no," Rory said, reassuring him. "It's just complicated. My mom and I have such a connected relationship. And my whole life, her opinion has been the one that has been most important to me. Her connection has been the one that has been most important to me. It's strange now … because now there are two people whose connections to me and whose opinions matter to me, equally.

"You are just as important to me as her. But just a little while ago, really, I was standing in front of a sign listing flights to San Francisco, wondering if you still wanted me now, after everything. And if I'd called her telling her what I was about to do, I may have done whatever she suggested, since at that point, I knew that no matter what happens, I'll always have her, because she's my mom. I didn't know where we stood. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Logan said calmly. "I understand. Or at least, I understand what that means to you. I mean, I can't relate, but I get that you have it. And I'm glad that you have it, which is why I'm concerned."

"I appreciate that," Rory said. "But you don't have to be. I'll figure it out."

Logan looked at her and set his eyes on hers, giving her a half smile.

"I'm in this, Rory," he said. "It's never just you, figuring it out alone. When you're trying to figure something out, I'm in this. We're in this. And I have to tell you that the longer you wait, the worse this is going to be. You can't lie to her for days, weeks on end. That will hurt her more."

"I know …" Rory trailed off.

"And someday, Rory, someday … I'm going to propose to you again," he said. "And when I do, I hope you'll say yes. And at that point, you're going to need and want your mother. Whether she's walking you down the aisle herself or if she's your maid of honor, you're going to need her.

"She is your best friend, Rory. And I have seen what going without her does to you. Your mom will always be your mom, and she will always love you. Your mom is great. But this will hurt her, and the longer you go without telling her, the harder it's going to be to repair the damage. But if you tell her now, there may not be any damage to repair. We can't start this life together without your mom knowing. It just won't turn out good for us. And I don't want that to be the way we start."

Rory took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled and smiled at him.

"I know," she said. "I know. You're right. I can't put this off much longer. I just don't know how to do it quite yet. Can I have some time to think it over?"

"Of course," he said. "Nothing is changing between tonight and tomorrow."

She leaned in and gave him a light, chaste kiss.

"Thank you for watching out for me," she said.

"It's my job," he said.

"Well, thank you anyways," she said gratefully. "And in the meantime, maybe I can watch out for you."

"How's that?" he said, quizzically.

"By pointing you in the direction of the Ikea catalog that I saw on that stack of boxes in the upstairs living room," she said. "We need furniture, Logan."

"Don't you want to help me pick it out?" he said.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said. "Start looking through it, and then I'll help you when I'm done."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Hope you continue to enjoy the updates.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 14**

Logan tried to focus on the Ikea catalog. He really did.

But he couldn't get his mind off the situation with Rory and Lorelai.

Rory couldn't just call up her mother and tell her she'd skipped her plane to Iowa and instead charged a ticket to California on her grandparents' American Express card to come move in with him. That conversation just wouldn't go well over the phone. Lorelai simply wouldn't take it well.

Rory and Lorelai had spent too much time apart and fighting over the past few years, from what Logan knew personally and from what he had ascertained. And he also knew that while Lorelai did like him as a person and didn't think he was some sort of assassin or horrible human being, he also knew that Lorelai was possessive over Rory. It was a universal parental emotion, and he couldn't blame her for it. Most every parent experienced it, if in different ways. In Logan's case, his father was possessive over his career. In the case of his mother and grandfather, they were possessive over his social status. Lorelai really was tame. She was just concerned.

Lorelai's adult life had started at sixteen. Of course she wanted more for Rory. Lorelai was possessive of Rory's future. Of course, in a strange way, so was Logan. This was and always had been the main conflict between them. That and the fact that Logan came from Lorelai's world, the world she'd grown up in and had grown ever suspicious and wary of. He also couldn't blame her for that.

So what was the solution?

He asked himself that question over and over again. How could Rory present this to Lorelai over the phone and have it go smoothly?

And eventually, he settled on the answer he'd known all along – she couldn't.

And that is how Logan found himself on his laptop, fifteen minutes later, searching for flights to Hartford on the internet.

Not five minutes later, he'd done it – he'd booked a flight for two to Hartford for tomorrow afternoon. They'd leave San Francisco at 9 a.m. tomorrow and arrive in Hartford around 6 p.m., and hopefully be to Stars Hollow by 7 p.m. That gave him very little time to talk Rory into this – and he hoped she wouldn't be angry. Maybe if he could track down her luggage, it would smooth the path.

And so while he waited for her to get out of the shower – 'What is taking so long?' he thought to himself – he called the airline and began the process of searching for her luggage.

Surprisingly, it only took him ten minutes to find her luggage – it was still in Iowa, but if he wanted, he could have it shipped. So he did – and he had it shipped to Stars Hollow. It would be there in two days. Perfect.

Just a few minutes after he'd hung up, Rory emerged from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel – she'd been smart enough to dig for one before she got in the shower.

"Any luck on the furniture?" she said.

"Not yet," he answered, fixating on the computer.

"Logan!" she said, exasperatedly, but also with a bit of a laugh. She climbed onto the bed, and knelt beside him as he laid back, propped against a pillow and the headboard, focused on his computer. "We have nothing. You have a bed, and a sorry little TV. You have some crates. We have no place to eat, which is okay for now, considering you have like, nothing to eat."

"Sorry," he said. "But I did find your luggage."

"Oh, yea?" Rory said, excited. "Where is it?"

"It's still in Iowa, I had it shipped," he said.

"Great, when will it be here?" Rory asked.

"They said it'll arrive in about two days," he said. "In Stars Hollow."

"In Stars Hollow?" Rory panicked. "Why is it arriving there? If my luggage arrives at my house, my mom will know something is up!"

"I thought you were going to take care of it sooner than that?" he said.

"Well, I am … but you know, if it gets there early …" she said.

"It won't," he assured her. "You'll be lucky if it gets there in a week. These things usually take longer than planned."

"Oh … okay," she said, calming.

"Besides, we're going to be in Stars Hollow by tomorrow night. So you can get it yourself," he said, slowly, staring straight at the computer.

"Excuse me?" Rory said, panicking again.

"I just booked us a flight to Hartford for tomorrow morning," Logan said.

"But why!?" Rory asked.

"Because you can't have this conversation with your mother over the phone, Rory, it won't go well," he asserted. "For all we know, she may get on a plane herself and show up here. Or she'll stew about it. Either way, it won't be good. You need to talk to her about this face to face. You're never going to feel okay about this situation until you have."

He saw her face fall as she considered what he said.

"Look …" he began. "If you don't want to go, I guess we don't have to – I'll just be out the money. But look at it this way: you need your things. If you're moving out here, you need all your clothes, your things from home, things from your room. You weren't bringing it all with you to Iowa. You should have all of your things here. And this way, when you go home to get them, you can clear the air, and you won't be going back in the dead of night to steal your things away to avoid a confrontation with your mom."

"She's going to be mad," Rory answered, softly. "She's going to be mad, and I'm going to have to see her be mad at me. The phone eliminated that portion of it."

"Yes, maybe," he said. "But maybe she won't be mad. And if you do this over the phone, you'll be missing out on so much more than just the anger, and maybe for a long time. It's a big gamble to take, don't you think?"

"I guess," she responded.

"And I'll be going with you," he said. "I'm not sending you alone. I'll come, I can even be there when you talk to her if you want, be a buffer, though I honestly don't think you're going to need it. Your mom cares about you Rory. She just wants to know you're happy. Even if she doesn't agree with it right away, I think if she sees you happy, she'll eventually be okay."

"Yea … you're probably right," she agreed. "But you shouldn't come with me while I talk to her. She'll feel outnumbered, Shanghaied, bombarded … I should do it."

"That's fine, too," he said. "All that matters to me is that we do this right. You'll never forgive yourself if you moving out here without telling your mom the right way puts a wedge between the two of you. And I don't want you associating that with us for the rest of your life."

"Yea …" Rory said.

She scooted over next to Logan, to sit close to him. He wrapped his right arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her forehead, still damp from the moisture of the shower. The fresh smell of her shampooed hair out of the shower comforted him.

"In the meantime, I thought we could order some furniture and it'll be waiting here for us when we get home," he said.

Rory picked her head up off his shoulder only for a second to kiss him softly, a few times along his jaw line, eliciting a small groan from him. Then she focused on the computer with him – or at least she attempted to – and spent the rest of the evening picking out furniture, and contemplating her journey home to Stars Hollow in the back of her mind.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **Hope you continue to enjoy the updates.

**_NEWS: I am now a registered Beta Reader for . Please feel free to contact me if you'd like me to Beta your story._**

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 15**

The flight to Stars Hollow was agonizingly long for Logan.

He was nervous – both for Rory and for himself.

They'd stayed up all night talking it out.

Rory had decided without a doubt that the conversation she was going to have with her mom had to be her thing – Logan tried to convince her to let him be there, to be a buffer. But in the end, he let her make the decision – if she thought it was like walking into a lion's den without a chair, it probably would be.

They'd realized that among all the other things that Rory needed to pack and bring with her, she'd also left her car at home. They'd decided they'd ship it from Connecticut to California – it was going to cost a fortune, but it was better than spending days driving. It was now Tuesday, and Logan and Rory had yet to purchase return tickets to California, not knowing how long this would take. But at any length, Logan would start work in less than a week and he couldn't afford a cross-country road trip when his house was lacking in furniture (that had now been ordered, but still needed to be put together) and he still needed to unpack.

Logan had called Honor, who was ecstatic to hear that Rory and Logan were back together. They'd be taking a cab to her place first, and Logan would lay low there until Rory was done talking with Lorelai. Of course if the conversation went badly, Logan could be spending a night or two there as well.

Hopefully, if all went well, they would be back on a plane to Palo Alto by Thursday afternoon, giving them plenty of time to get settled in the house before Logan started work on Monday.

Of course the trick to getting to Thursday was getting through the next few days alive. Logan wasn't sure how Lorelai would react. He was more worried for Rory than he was for himself, and while he was 99.999% sure that Lorelai would never actually resort to violence to put Rory on the path she thought she would be on, Logan knew that at any length, she wasn't going to be happy … at least not at first.

He knew that for Rory, the plane ride probably felt fast. He could see in on her face and in her eyes that she was using this time to prepare herself. He could see her lips moving ever so slightly, as if she was running over the speech in her head. He reached over to take her hand to comfort her, and squeezed it softly. She squeezed his hand back, and looked towards the window. Rory was dreading this even more than he was.

But for Logan, dreading it just meant that he wanted to get it done and over with. He wanted the next few days to be over quickly so that he and Rory could get started with their life. He wanted it to be done and over with so that he could get started on a job that he was actually excited to do, that only 24-hours ago, he'd been thinking about giving up. But mostly, he wanted it to be done and over with so that Rory could stop stressing about it. He hated to see her stressed.

Of course, he knew that while her anxiety over this would go away, it was only the tip of the iceberg. Rory had spoken with Hugo Grave this morning, which meant that the job that was hers was officially not hers anymore, and although not showing up for her first day was almost as official as it got, actually saying the words made it more real and now, she'd be stressing out over finding a job.

'If only she'd ask my dad for help,' he thought. After all, Logan wasn't on Mitchum's list of favorite people, but as of lately, it seemed he liked Rory more than he liked Logan. But that wasn't Rory – she always wanted to do things for herself. She didn't want anything handed to her. Rory had yet to accept the fact that nepotism made the business world – and the world of journalism – go around. And in the world of journalism, there was no better man to speak on your behalf than Mitchum Huntzberger. He'd shoot an email to the editor of the San Francisco Chronicle about needing a possible position for a friend of the family, and two reporters would be fired just to make sure that she could be given a substantial salary. It was the Huntzberger way.

Of course, this was what made him love Rory – she was different, self-sufficient, determined and unique. And she was incredibly talented and bright. In theory, she shouldn't need anyone to get her a job. But in this job market, where newspapers across the country found themselves experiencing leaner times, it was often the younger reporters with not as much to show for themselves that didn't even get a glance from big name papers – or any paper, for that matter.

In Logan's opinion, there was no more talented a writer than Rory Gilmore – he'd thought that before he dated her, from the second her article on the Life and Death Brigade appeared above the fold in the Yale Daily News. He knew she had it, even if his father had only a few months later told her she didn't. But sometimes, age means a lot in the job market, and so does name-recognition. And sometimes, a word or two from a big wig would get you just a slightly better chance, just enough to actually give an editor a chance to see how fantastic you are. It was like a magnifying glass that only gave you a chance for your positive attributes to shine.

But it would be hard for him to convince Rory of this.

And at the moment, it didn't matter.

In an hour, Rory and Logan would be landing in Hartford, and within the next two hours, she'd be on her mother's doorstep, entering her childhood home that she'd left only just yesterday to tell her mother that she'd bucked her job opportunity, the one they'd stressed over for three days straight, only to hop on a plane to California and make the bold and spontaneous decision to move in with her boyfriend. And this just left Logan with a series of questions, all of which he wished would be answered sooner, rather than later, and made the plane seem small, as if it were suffocating him.

Would Rory living with Logan really seem so bad to Lorelai?

Which was worse – Rory living off a bus and in motels, never knowing when she could come to Stars Hollow but having a stable job, or living in California when she could come to Stars Hollow whenever she pleased but having no job prospects yet?

And – and this was the question that plagued him – now that he was, by choice, bringing her home to Stars Hollow, the place she loved more than anywhere in the world, would be able to the extrapolate her from it again, from the place that was so near and dear to her heart that it drew her in like a magnet?

She loved all those people. She loved that place. And even though he knew how much she loved him, he wondered if at the end of the day, she could love him enough alone, more than all those things combined.

And he found himself wondering if he was worth the agony he was putting her through.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **I hope this story continues to live up to everyone's expectations. Please read and review. If you have any ideas or thoughts, please also feel free to email me at .com.

**_NEWS: I am now a registered Beta Reader. Please feel free to contact me if you'd like me to Beta your story._**

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 16**

To Rory, the flight to Hartford was quite literally flying by.

Somehow, the six and a half hour flight, plus the hour of waiting at the airport had not been enough time for her to think. She only had an hour left, and she felt as though she only had ten minutes. She had so many things to think about.

First of all, she had to think about all the things she was going to need to pack up – literally, her whole room, minus the furniture. All of her clothes, her shoes, her possessions, framed pictures, photo albums, DVD collection, CDs, and of course, her books, which would require more boxes than everything else put together.

She also had to get her car shipped to California. She and Logan had found a place online last night that would ship her car, since they'd decided they couldn't afford the time crunch. For the second time in 24 hours, she'd whipped out the American Express card and swiped. Technically, she'd entered the digits and electronically signed for it. She felt careless. But it was necessary – she couldn't very well go without her car, and she couldn't afford to buy another.

Logan had offered to pay for it, but Rory just couldn't bring herself to let him do that. He'd already paid for their tickets to Connecticut, and he was paying for them to return to California. He'd paid for the furniture they ordered last night. He had paid for the pizza they'd ordered. He was paying for the cab from the airport. And, until she had a job, he was also paying a substantial portion of the rent. She'd learned last night that Mitchum was footing part of the bill – not Logan's idea. But his father had it in his mind that his son couldn't go out in the business world and fail, again. And apparently if he were living in anything less than a small palace, that wouldn't be good for the family reputation.

"After all, son," Logan had said in his best Mitchum voice, "You may not be my employee now, but you're still the heir to one of the biggest multimedia conglomerates in the world, and when I retire or kick it, I'd like for someone to be able to find you tell you the news and have you living in a house, not a cardboard box."

Even with several hundred dollars scraped off their monthly rent, Logan was paying for most of everything. And so, in the course of one day, she'd managed to charge $3,000 to her "for emergencies only" card – a $300 plane ticket to San Francisco and $2700 to ship her car across the country, which meant that there was something else she had to do – call her grandparents and let them know she'd spent $3,000 that wasn't hers to spend. Hopefully they were over having spent $40,000 to renovate the pool house – or "sex house" as her grandparents had frequently called it.

And then of course there was the big kahuna, the priority-one, list-topper – she had to tell her mom about the decision she'd made face-to-face.

The truth was that she was looking forward to being back in Stars Hollow. After several days of uncertainty, she was comforted by the thought of being in a place she knew so well, with people whom she loved. If it weren't for the impending confrontation, she would probably be just fine.

She was so nervous to tell her mother. She was nervous about her reaction. She hated the idea of leaving Stars Hollow on bad terms with her mother to fly cross county. When she'd fought with her mother before, she'd gone on an all-summer trip with her grandmother to Europe – temporary, and short all things considered. When she'd fought with her mother over Yale, she'd moved into the pool house – only 30 minutes away from her mother, and again, temporary. California was a lot further away and a lot more permanent. The upside, she reminded herself, was that living in California consistently was much better than living out of a motel and being on a campaign, and it meant that she would probably have the opportunity to visit home more frequently. She made a mental note to emphasize that in her speech, which she'd been practicing her speech over and over again in her mind.

She suddenly felt Logan's warm hand wrapping around hers and squeezing it, and she realized that she'd been mouthing the words of her speech silently to herself. She squeezed his hand, too, and turned to look out the window, watching the country fly by underneath her, and feeling the seconds rush along with them.

Too soon, the flight was landing in Hartford. They were disembarking, Logan was grabbing his checked luggage (Rory had had nothing to check, given that her luggage was still en route to Stars Hollow and she didn't have anything besides the clothes on her back in California).

And before she knew it, Logan was hailing a cab, and they were dropping him off at Honor's.

As the cab continued onward to Stars Hollow, Rory was simultaneously comforted and unnerved by the familiarity of the streets they traveled down. She recognized landmarks that were notable only to her, those that she'd seen hundreds of times on bus rides from Chilton to home for three years, that marked minutes off her journey and put her a few steps closer to Stars Hollow.

When they entered the town, Rory smiled – and her stomach dropped – as she passed the gazebo. The sun was just beginning to set on the late spring day in Stars Hollow – it was nearly 7 p.m. She cracked the window and smelled the fresh air, that somehow, smelled different than anywhere else and reminded her of home and ignited memories.

It was strange, she pondered, how she'd been gone less than a day, and yet it felt like she'd been gone forever. But somehow, nothing had changed. That was something she loved about Stars Hollow – it always stayed the same, at least for the most part, give or take a traffic light or too. She liked that it was something constant that she could return to, no matter how far away she'd been or for how long.

They turned onto her street, and Rory could feel her blood pressure rise – her heart was pounding, her hands shaking ever so slightly.

She had no time to anticipate arriving at the house – it seemed that she was there in an instance. Soon, she was handing the cab driver a wad of bills from Logan – enough for the fare and for the tip. Before she knew it, she was walking the familiar path to the front porch. Her mom was obviously home – the lights were on, the Jeep in the driveway. Though, she thought to herself, it was entirely possible for her to not be home – it was just like her mother to walk into town and to leave all the lights on in her house.

And then she stood there … scared to enter or knock.

This feeling was all too familiar to her – yesterday, she'd been standing on Logan's porch, hesitating to knock.

Her first emotion was actually confusion – should she simply let herself in? It probably wasn't locked, and if it was, she had her house key. Or should she knock? Technically, in a few days, she wouldn't live here anymore.

So she took a moment to breathe, to pause, to consider her options. She looked around her and took it all in.

Again, the memories washed over her.

She remembered sitting on the front porch with Lorelai, eating spray whip cream, while she painted her toe nails red for her first day at Chilton. She thought of her grandfather, taking a quiz on what season he was from a women's magazine at her sixteenth birthday party. She laughed at the time she and her mom got in an argument over whose boobs were bigger. She remembered the many times that Dean, and then Jess, and then Dean again, had picked her up for a date from the very spot in which she stood. She remembered leaving through the front doors on her first day of Yale, wondering if she could ever return home again and have it feel the same – she wondered the same thing to herself again today. She considered the many times she'd returned home from Yale to feel the warmth of home wash over her. She reminisced about the night when she returned to her house after living with her grandparents for month and embracing her mother on the front lawn. She remembered the first time she'd brought Logan home. She thought about yesterday morning, leaving the house and dragging her suitcases behind her, feeling like she was leaving forever and laughed at the irony – if only she'd known yesterday morning that she'd just end up here again, she would've saved the energy and melancholia, since she was experiencing the same feelings now.

At the end of the day, she thought to herself, this will always be one of my homes.

She would always feel at home in California – or wherever Logan and she happened to be living. With him, she was home. But this house, would also always be her home. She was lucky enough to have to worlds, two homes, where she would always feel safe and complete.

And that was why she decided to just open the door. She was in control of this situation, and her life. Knocking was passive. Opening the door and entering, confidently (or at least pretending to be), was the woman she wanted to be and was how she wanted to handle this situation.

So she did it – she opened the door and stepped into the entryway, closing the door behind her. She slipped her jacket off and hung it from a hook near the door, and dropped her messenger bag against the wall. Paul Anka ran to the door, and she knelt down to pet him, saying hello in a whisper.

"Luke?" a voice called from upstairs.

Suddenly, Rory's voice seemed to be absent. She couldn't say anything back.

"Luke, is that you?" the voice called again, and footsteps followed.

Rory's heartbeat began to race faster. She stood up as Paul Anka scurried off towards the living room. The footsteps came closer.

"Luke, did you-" Lorelai began as she came into the entryway from the living room. She stopped dead in her tracks and her voice stopped as she realized who was there.

"Rory?" Lorelai said, a look of confusion on her face.

Rory struggled to speak, but managed to summon the courage and clarity to say two words, nervously stammering.

"H-hi Mom."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, nor do I have any connection or affiliation with the actors and actresses, producers, show-runners or the CW. Because let's face it – if I did, Gilmore Girls would still be on, Rory would've married Logan, and I wouldn't be writing this fanfic.

**Rating: **PG for now, for language.

**Major Relationships: **Rory & Logan, with Luke & Lorelai from time to time.

**Author's Note: **I hope this story continues to live up to everyone's expectations. Please read and review. If you have any ideas or thoughts, please also feel free to email me at .com.

**If I Never See You Again**

_By Heather Nicole_

**Chapter 17**

Rory felt like she and Lorelai had stood staring at each other in silence for hours, even though it had only been minutes, when Lorelai finally took a step forward and broke the silence.

"Rory, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?" she said.

"Everything's fine," Rory said. "Well, I think everything's fine. You might not think it's fine. I guess we'll see."

"Rory, what are you talking about?" Lorelai moved towards her and took her hands. "What is going on?"

"Can we sit down?" Rory asked.

"Sure," Lorelai answered, hesitantly.

They made their way into the kitchen. Rory sat down at the kitchen table, and waited for her mother to join her, but Lorelai simply leaned against the counter nearest the coffee pot and looked at her.

"So?" Lorelai prodded.

"So … I'm here because I have something to tell you," Rory said.

"You could've called me," Lorelai answered.

"No," she said. "I couldn't. This is the kind of thing I need to tell you in person."

"What's wrong?" her mother responded.

"Why do you assume something's wrong?" Rory asked.

"Because," Lorelai stated. "You wouldn't have left your job in Iowa, that you only left for about 36 hours ago, to come home and tell me something small or mediocre or inconsequential. This is obviously something big."

"Big doesn't mean bad," Rory explained.

"No, but I just have a feeling that it is," Lorelai answered.

"How come?" Rory asked.

"Because you have the face," Lorelai said.

"What face?" Rory inquired.

"It's the 'I've got something to tell you that you're not going to like,' face," Lorelai said. "It's the same look you had on your face when you were five and you spilled chocolate milk all over a very expensive rug at the Independence Inn. It's also the look you had on your face when you got hit by a dear. It's the same look you had on your face when you had sex with Dean. It's the same look you had on your face when I picked you up from prison, and a few days later, when you told me you weren't going back to Yale. It's the same face. I know that face."

"I don't think it's bad," Rory said.

"You also didn't think sleeping with Dean was a bad idea at first, either," said Lorelai.

Rory could only look at her hands. Her mother was right – Rory had had a habit for making decisions that she thought were right that she later learned were very, very wrong. What if this was the same thing happening all over again?

"C'mon, Rory," Lorelai finally sat down at the table across from her. "Just tell me whatever it is that made you feel like you had to come here and leave your first job."

"Well," Rory said, finally looking up at Lorelai. "I didn't actually make it to my job."

"What?" asked Lorelai, confused.

"I didn't make it to Iowa," Rory confirmed. "I got stuck on that layover in Chicago, you know? And … I don't know really what came over me or how it happened. But one minute, I was getting ready to get on a plane to Des Moines, and the next, I was buying a ticket to San Francisco."

"To San Francisco," Lorelai said. It was a statement – not a question. Lorelai didn't need much to put together the pieces of this picture. Lorelai knew what was in San Francisco and what wasn't in Des Moines – or who, as the case may be.

"Yea," Rory responded. "To San Francisco."

"So why did you decide to go to San Francisco?" Lorelai asked. "I mean, I thought we'd decided that going to San Francisco wasn't the right decision for you right now. I mean, I thought that's what you decided."

San Francisco had clearly become a synonym for Logan. Rory played along, afraid to tip the balance.

"Well, I guess I realized there was more than one circumstance under which I could go to San Francisco," Rory explained.

"I thought San Francisco had made it pretty clear what you had to do if you wanted to go to San Francisco," Lorelai said. She got up and began to rummage around in the cabinet for a bag of coffee. She slid the coffee pot out of the coffee maker and walked around to the other side of the kitchen to fill the pot. Rory turned to face her mother.

"No," Rory said. "San Francisco wanted me to move there and to move forward. San Francisco didn't want to do the long distance thing again. So … we're not."

Lorelai was silent. She walked back across the kitchen to fill the coffee maker. She poured the water in the coffee maker, and measured five heaping scoops of coffee grounds into the basket … and then added a sixth. Clearly this was a conversation that was going to require the strongest of coffee. And maybe a little Kahlua.

"I don't suppose Hugo Grave has any big, great, fantastic job opportunities in California, does he?" Lorelai asked.

"No," Rory answered.

"So you threw away this opportunity … for nothing?" Lorelai said, turning to face Rory.

"No, Mom," Rory said, restraining the urge to get defensive. "Not for nothing."

Lorelai sat down at the table. The two women sat in silence while the coffee brewed. The silence was unbearable. Finally, Rory broke it.

"I love Logan, Mom," Rory said.

"I thought we were calling him San Francisco," Lorelai remarked.

"You were calling him San Francisco," Rory said. "I was playing along."

"I guess I'm just confused, Rory," Lorelai said. "You turned down his proposal because you said you weren't ready to be married, you weren't ready to be tied down."

"I'm not ready to be married – yet," Rory said. "But I could be. And in the meantime, I also know that I'm not ready to be away from Logan or to let him slip away. I don't know that I'll ever be ready for that."

"So what's the big plan then, now?" Lorelai asked incredulously.

"I'm moving to California," Rory answered. "I'm going to move in with Logan at the house that he picked for us to move into. I'm going to find a job out there."

"Are you getting married?" Lorelai asked.

"Ever?" Rory responded.

"Yes … but more specifically now," Lorelai clarified.

"No, we're not getting married now," Rory answered. "But yes, I would like to marry him someday."

Lorelai got up and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"So when are you going back then?" Lorelai asked.

"We're not really sure," Rory said.

"We?" Lorelai said.

"Me and Logan," Rory said.

"Logan's here?" Lorelai asked.

"Well, not here in Stars Hollow, but he's here in the state of Connecticut," Rory answered. "He's over at Honor's."

"Oh," Lorelai said softly, mulling all of this over in her head.

"It was actually his idea to come here," she said. "He paid for the tickets and everything. He didn't want us to have this conversation over the phone … and he was right. I'm lucky, you know … to have someone who knows what's good for me. I mean, besides you. Anyhow, we don't know when we're leaving. It just depends how long it takes to pack, I guess. But we're hoping to leave around Thursday. Logan starts work on Monday."

"Well, we have some boxes at the Dragonfly," Lorelai said. "I don't know if it's enough for all your things … definitely not for all of your books. But you know, Luke probably has some boxes lying around."

"Mom," Rory tried to interject.

"Mrs. Kim probably has some too," Lorelai continued.

"Mom," Rory said louder.

"Andrew might even have some boxes you could snag," Lorelai thought outloud.

"MOM!" Rory finally shouted. Lorelai stopped and looked at her, her face fallen and silent. "Why are you talking about boxes?"

"Because you'll need boxes," Lorelai said.

"Mom," Rory coaxed her. "What do you really think?"

"It doesn't matter," Lorelai said, trying to keep her opinion out of the mix. "You've made your mind up."

"I have," Rory said. "But that doesn't mean that what you think isn't still important to me."

Lorelai walked over to the door to Rory's room, and opened it. She leaned against the door frame, coffee cup in hand. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"I want you to be happy, Rory," Lorelai said, plainly. "If Logan is what is going to make you happy, then I want you to be with him.

"It's hard for me to tell you what I really think, kid, because honestly, I don't really know. You know, I've been engaged twice – and I didn't marry either of those guys. I've been married and divorced – all within a span of a few months this year. Love isn't really something I know. I can flirt, I can date. I can even be in a relationship, maybe even a serious relationship. I just can't ever really seem to get it off the ground past that point.

"I'm not really sure why that is. I also like to think that Luke and I will stick this time, and maybe then at some point, I'll have a better frame of reference for you. Unfortunately, you need it now.

"My gut says that this is a really, really risky decision. The job market sucks, and you managed to find a whale of a job. I mean, the pay was going to be crappy, but you weren't going to have many living expenses and it was going to be the ride – literally and figuratively – of a lifetime. You couldn't put a price on the networking and the experience you could be having right now.

"But work isn't everything, right? A career isn't everything. I guess for me, working and my career have been a stable point in my life, which has been a simultaneously fun and scary roller coaster. But that doesn't mean it has to be for you. Or maybe you can have both. If anyone could, it would be you. And I guess if there is something to be risky about, it's probably love, right. Isn't that what the poets are always telling us to do? Seize the damn day, right? Carpe diem, and all that.

"What scares me is that I don't know how this is going to turn out for you. Because it could turn out to be wonderful. Or it could leave you heartbroken and worse off than you were before. But it is your life. And who am I to tell you how or when to love? No one should be able to tell you that, least of all me.

"It's hard for me to picture the little girl who grew up in this room moving across the country with a boy that she can realistically see herself living her whole life with. I can still see you in that chair reading Little Women. The same girl who only a few years later had her first kiss, thanked the boy for it and stole a box of corn starch. I can't wrap my mind around it, you know?

"But then again, I can't picture myself married either, for one crazy reason or another. And I'm almost forty.

"But the point is that whether or not I think this is good or bad … and I think I'll probably waffle over that every day, I'm always here for you. And I'll try to be as helpful as I can. And your room and your home are always here, if anything goes wrong. And so am I," she finished.

Rory smiled, crossed the room and hugged Lorelai.

"Thank you," Rory said. "That means a lot to me."

"Sure, kid," Lorelai sighed, both happy for her daughter and scared. She felt a kind of melancholia that was worse than the kind she'd felt only a day before, when she'd dropped Rory off at the airport. She'd felt like it was the end of an era – but now, she felt that that was even more true. Her baby girl was going off to live in a state that Lorelai had never even been to, to live with a boy, whom she was most likely going to marry. It was strange. How quickly things had changed.

"You know, you will get married to Luke," Rory said. "I really believe that."

"I'm glad someone does," Lorelai answered.

"Oh, c'mon," Rory encouraged.

Lorelai stepped away from the door and walked into the living room.

"I love Luke," Lorelai said. "Don't get me wrong. I just don't have any expectations anymore. I just want us to be happy. If we get married, we do. If we don't, we don't. I'm not getting my hopes up. If we happen to manage to make it down the aisle … it'll just be a fringe benefit."

"And you already have a dress," Rory said.

Lorelai sat down on the far end of the couch. Rory followed suit and sat on the side nearer the kitchen.

"I do," Lorelai said. "But it might be bad juju to wear that dress."

"Why?" Rory asked.

"Because, I bought it for a wedding that never happened," she answered. "It might be cursed."

"Maybe," Rory said, wide eyed, clearly pacifying Lorelai.

"Maybe you can have it," Lorelai said. "If you and Logan get married. Or if you marry someone else."

"If you don't want to wear your bad juju dress, I really don't want to wear your bad juju dress. Don't try to pass your bad wedding karma off on me," Rory joked.

"Maybe it wouldn't be cursed for you," Lorelai asserted. "Maybe it's only cursed for me."

"Let's not take any chances," Rory said.

"Probably a good idea," Lorelai said. She sighed and picked up the remote. "Want to watch something really bad?"

"Sure," Rory said. "I don't need to start packing yet. But I should probably call Logan and let him know what happened."

"Another good idea," Lorelai said.

"Can he come over here?" Rory asked.

"Of course," Lorelai answered.

"And maybe we can order a pizza?" Rory asked.

"Whatever you want," Lorelai smiled at her.

Rory went into the entryway and rummaged for her sidekick in her messenger bag. She speed dialed Logan's number.

From the living room, Lorelai could hear her talking to him, happily.

How strange it is, Lorelai thought to herself, that her daughter is now, possibly permanently, part of a package deal. With her, would come Logan. How fast 23 years had flown by … but yet, how slow the past day and a half had felt. At what pace would the next few days, weeks and months pass by, while she waited for her daughter to be proposed to – again. And while she waited for her daughter's love life to come into bloom, she wondered whether she herself would ever finally be proposed to by the one man she'd wanted most for as long as she could remember.

**Author's Note: I hope you all enjoyed this update. I am now betareading. If any of you are interested, please contact me.**


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